


I Love The Way Your Soul Sings

by hotknifer



Series: red blossom into flame [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst i guess??, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Not So Subtle Flirting, Slow Burn, alternatively titled "how many different places can rey and ben get kicked out of", ben doesnt like human interaction, definitely no pining nooo, emotions? whomst?, fun handshakes, give them coffee, kinda dysfunctional but we love them, leia owns a library now, okay definitely angsty now, rey just wants friends, rose sees and knows all, they hit each other with books, they're both book nerds, this was supposed to all be lighthearted, wash Ben's mouth out with soap, who knew picnics could go so wrong, you're gonna suffer but you're gonna be happy about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-20 23:18:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 65,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13728111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotknifer/pseuds/hotknifer
Summary: College AU (ish)Rey spends her time in her local library reading anything she can get her hands on. It hardly comes as a surprise when she finally meets Ben, a tortured artist and a student at the college in town. Soon concluding he's annoying, rude, and snappy, she decides she'd rather never interact with him again.The universe, it seems, has other plans.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there. I wrote the first chapter of this in the middle of the night while bored out of my mind and have decided to continue it. Chapters won't be too long to start off with, but we'll see what happens. Hope you enjoy!

The man sat at the table across from Rey had been glaring down at the book in front of him for over five minutes now. The book being subjected to such a gaze was thick, dusty, leather-bound, and she doubted anyone had even touched it in over fifty years. Judging by the yellow pages she watched him flick through aggressively, it was incredibly old and most likely very obscure. She attempted to read the pages inconspicuously, but from this distance it was impossible. Curiosity not satisfied yet feeling defeated nonetheless, she sighed and leant back in her chair and gave her own book a wary glance. 

She had originally come here to study and instead found herself distracted by the rows upon rows of fine literature waiting to be read. She was also distracted by the glaring man whose every moment, every turn of the page, snagged her attention out of the corner of her eyes, impossible to ignore. He suddenly closed the book in annoyance and the resulting loud thump sent a jolt right through her. The glaring man looked over at her, and his expression softened fractionally. 

“That was unnecessarily loud,” Rey vaguely wondered if he was aware of the rule of silence in libraries, moving her dark hair out of the way of her face so she could see him better. Dark eyes met hers, carefully neutral but with a strange, blazing sort of fire underneath. She looked away after a moment, prolonged eye contact with strangers wasn't something she enjoyed. Although, she didn't really enjoy prolonged eye contact with anyone.

“I was annoyed.” He gave no apology, and his words had an edge of defensive bite to them which surprised Rey. He looked back down at the book, closing off the conversation. Intrigued by this strange man, she endeavoured to prolong this conversation as much as she could. 

“I noticed,” she gave him a small, tentative smile, unsure exactly how to act. The warmth of being inside and the amount of caffeine she was running on to stay awake was probably getting to her. There was no way that she would have struck up a conversation with a stranger any other day, especially one who looked on the engender if hitting her over the head with the tome in front of him. 

He made a dismissive gesture and ate a crisp from the packet next to him. She was sure she distinctly remembered a rule about food being banned; it was a miracle he hadn't been caught. She had once made the mistake of sneaking in some jelly babies, and the angry rant she got from the librarian did not make them worth the experience. 

“I'm Rey.” She introduced herself, because she wasn't sure what else to say. He glanced up for a second, as though surprised she was still talking. 

“Ben.” He ate another crisp and put in a pair of earphones, music blasting so loudly she could hear it. 

Mildly irked by his dismissal of what could have been a decently interesting conversation, she reached over and pulled one of them out of his ear. He gave her the same glare he'd given the book earlier, and it took everything in her to not look as uncomfortable as she felt.

“What the hell?” He asked, snatching it back from her and pausing his music. In answer, she pointed to the sign above his head. He craned his neck to read it. 

“Silence in the library. Your music was too loud, and we were talking.” She fidgeted under the ferocity of his glare; if looks could kill she'd be six feet under right now. She leant forward a little, arms resting on the book she had long given up on reading. “Why have you been glaring at that book for the past hour?”

He sighed deeply, trying for patience. She watched as he closed his eyes, counted to ten under his breath, then opened them again, no longer giving her such a harsh look. “It's not exactly light reading. I have an essay due tomorrow and I haven't started it yet, and this is no help at all.”

He passed the book to her and she traced the gold embossed letters on the front with her finger. A large amount of dust kicked back and she set off coughing, trying to wipe it off her hand and onto the table. “How old is that thing?” She asked once she had managed to breathe again, drinking water from her water bottle that she'd set on the table earlier. Setting it down, she gingerly flicked through the pages. It was written in a very wordy style, and she guessed it was probably Medieval English to boot. Painful, to say the least.

“Ancient, actually. An old translation of a classic Greek piece of literature.” He answered, closing his notebook and crumpling up the crisp packet, throwing it across the room. It landed perfectly in the bin. 

“Why are you reading that? It sounds horrific.” She slid the book back across the table to him and he took it, placing it on top of his notebook along with his pens in a neat stack.

“That's an understatement. And for the essay.” He began to pack all of it into a black backpack with the logo of an expensive brand on. Strange, she hadn't pegged him as the rich type. He seemed to grounded for that. 

“Oh, are you studying at the college here?” Renowned for its ridiculously high tuition fees, she used this as a question to try and discover more about the man who had intrigued her so much she couldn't even think of studying again.

“What is this, twenty questions?” He snapped, his attention focused on trying to close the bag. It was so packed with stuff that it seemed like a futile effort.

“I was just wondering.” Rey grumbled, doodling on her notes with more force than strictly necessary, leaving a light imprint of the flowery design she drew on the wooden table beneath. She lifted the paper and inhaled sharply at the sight of it. “Oh, shit!”

“Silence in the library.” He stood up and pushed his chair in, tapping the sign. She looked up at his neutral expression with disdain. He swung the bag over his shoulder. Rey searched for the right words to say and failed miserably, too concerned with the possibility of getting into trouble for vandalism along the fact that she could now see he was very tall, which was also quite surprising.

Not waiting for her to finish forming a reply to his comment, Ben turned and left, leaving Rey alone at her table, wondering what exactly his problem was. 

With an annoyed sigh, she opened her book to get back to studying and hoped she'd never have to interact with him again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look, my 12am writing returns. Hopefully this is coherent and enjoyable! Thanks to those who have left kudos so far!
> 
> (and yes, I definitely overused the word 'annoying')

The next time Rey saw Ben in the library was at the worst time possible. 

She was having a hushed argument with one of the new librarians over a book they insisted was overdue, but she knew for sure she'd returned it the week previously.

“I told you, I returned it on Wednesday morning. Please double check the system!” She was practically praying for patience when she saw Ben roll his eyes at her from the shelves he was retrieving a book from. This made him a hundred times more annoying in her eyes, as he could clearly see her struggling and refused to help, instead casually leafing through a heavy book and humming to himself. 

“Miss, I'm sorry but I've checked multiple times. The book is not in here, you may have accidentally left it at home and forgotten about it.”

“Listen,” She said tiredly, hoping to spell it out simply. “I know this is just your job, but go and get the chief librarian. She knows me, and knows that I've handed the book back in. I've been coming here for years.”

The young librarian looked doubtful but nodded and disappeared behind the shelves. Rey turned to Ben, who was still humming a tune way too happy for it to be legitimate. “Thanks for the help there, Ben. I really appreciate it.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and, raising one eyebrow, he acknowledged her presence. 

“You're very welcome.” He walked away to the nearest table, dropping down the stack of heavy books he'd carried in his arms. He opened one to somewhere in the middle, took a pen out of his pocket, and began writing in his notebook.

“Ugh--” She followed and sat down opposite him. Although she didn't exactly want to, she really didn't have anything else to do while she waited for the librarian to return. “Do you enjoy being rude?”

“Yes.” He replied, deep in concentration while writing a draft of his essay. His pen moved quickly across the page, black ink filling the black space in flowing cursive. He had surprisingly nice handwriting considering the lightning fast speed he was working at, she wondered absently.

“Well then.” She folded her arms and tried to read his work upside down from her position across the table. “‘showing the effect of heartbreak on the young mind. Additionally the lyrical way that the author structures his sentences, along with his use of sibilance creates a dreamy atmosphere that is further reinforced with imagery of the night...’ Wow, that's deep stuff.”

He looked up at her then, dark eyes meeting hers. “Could you not? I'm trying to work.”

She huffed but relented, resulting to examining her hands in the sheer boredom of waiting. She flexed her fingers a few times, studied the movement closer. She cracked her knuckles once, but the glare that he sent her way signalled that she probably shouldn't do that unless she wanted to suffer a very painful black eye. 

“Stop it.” He put down his pen and looked up at her in great annoyance. 

“Stop what?” She tilted her head slightly to the side, confused. She hadn't spoken and wasn't even tapping on the table. She was being as soundless as possible, and that was definitely more than she thought he deserved.

“Moving. I can see you in the corner of my eye and it's distracting.”

“How am I supposed to stop moving? I'm not a statue.” She replied, thoroughly annoyed by him now. 

“Good point, try replacing yourself with one.” He skim read a page from the old book in front of him, paying her less attention now. 

“Are you telling me to go away?”

“I'm asking you to either leave or stay still and stop talking because you're being incredibly annoying right now and I'd much prefer the presence of literally anyone else.” He replied boredly.

Stung, she stood up from the table and pushed the chair away. “Fine.” She gathered up her bag and kept her voice as carefully neutral as she could. “Fine, I'll leave you alone to do your work, and the next time you start snickering when I'm in a tricky situation I'll make sure to flip you off.”

“I didn't make you sit across from me. We don't even know each other.”

It was a valid point, and that's what made it even more difficult for Rey to hear. She stormed off to find the front desk in an even worse mood than she had previously been, and slapped her library card onto it. The librarian looked up and gave her a gentle smile, despite the sour expression on Rey’s face.

“Leia, look. Apparently I've not returned a book or something, but I have and you were there when I did. Now the assistant librarian's up my ass about it, and I've just had a really bad day. Can you please, please check the system to see I've actually returned it?” She explained tiredly, feeling a headache slowly forming. Great, just what she needed on top of everything else.

“Of course, Rey.” Leia searched her name in the database and began sifting through the records. As she did so, she asked: “What's got you so worked up, by the way?”

“Nothing.” She muttered, because it really should be that to her. The conversation with Ben should just be another conversation with a rude stranger like every other interaction she seemed to have with people, but something about him made it different. She wasn't sure what is was that made it different though, the fact she felt some strange tug to him the two times when she had been in his presence? Or just that he was so utterly, openly, obnoxiously rude to her? 

“If it's made you this stressed, I highly doubt that statement is true.” Leia gave her a knowing look and scanned her plastic library card, pulling up a picture of the book she had supposedly not returned onto the screen and reading through all of the details. 

Rey bit the inside of her lip slightly, unsure where to begin. “I'm just not having a very patient day, and a couple of people haven't been very polite to me.” She didn't mention the fact she hadn't been very polite back, assuming Leia would probably infer that from her words anyway. “I also didn't have time for coffee this morning, so I think I'm in caffeine withdrawal or something.”

“Believe me, I've had my fair share of rude people today too.” She typed a few things into the computer, and it began loading painfully slow. “So when I say I know how you're feeling, I really do. But unfortunately, that's life,”

“Doesn't mean I like it.” She ran a hand through her hair, letting the short waves fall into a messy parting. She really should have brushed it this morning.

“Ah, here we go. Yes, there must have been a system malfunction. I've rectified it and cancelled the fine.” Leia handed her back the library card with a small chocolate too.

“Thank you so much.” Rey sighed in relief, pocketing them to keep them safe. “I was starting to wonder if I'd just dreamt returning it.”

The librarian gave her a warm smile. “No problem. Hopefully, this mistake won't happen again.”

She said her goodbyes and turned to leave the library when she caught Ben's eye. He wasn't studying any more, in fact, he wasn't even pretending. Just staring into space tiredly. She guessed he probably hadn't had any coffee that day either; he hadn't seemed to notice he was staring at her. He soon snapped out of it, however, raising an eyebrow at her again, then looking back down at the books in front of him. Shaking her head, Rey sighed and walked out the library onto the summer-bright streets.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's half term, so I'm churning out chapters! They're still gonna be this length for the time being, but as the plot thickens they will most likely lengthen.
> 
> Thank you for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks so far!

Library visits had gone from the most enjoyable part of her day to the time she spent most on edge. Hiding in the classics section in hopes of avoiding Ben, she really wished she just hadn't tried to talk to him that day. Damn her, this is what she got for trying to be sociable. This was probably karma for the one time she had actually returned a book late. It was ironic, the library used to be where she'd go to escape her problems, not find them. 

She looked around the tables and chairs, checking that no one else was there. When she was sure she was alone, she set down her coffee and crappy laptop she'd owned for years, determined to actually get work done this time. She turned it on and waited as it booted up just slowly enough to be painful. Sitting down, she pulled out a copy of the book she'd been reading recently to distract her. 

It worked for about five minutes. After that, she closed the book with a sigh and looked at all the empty chairs around her. This was tragic, and quite sad indeed. How she'd gone from disliking other people's company to now needing it while doing work, she didn't know. The silence of being here early in the morning was oppressive, suffocating her like a blanket thrown over her thoughts. 

She rested her head on the book, the laptop still loading, and closed her eyes. Staying up late and waking up early had definitely been a mistake. The quiet lulled her into an easy sleep, catching up all the hours she'd missed in the past hectic week of her life.

A thump on the back of her head startled her awake, and the pain immediately made her want to curl up and go back to sleep. “What the hell?” She said groggily, lifting her cheek off the piece of paper she'd been writing on. The blue ink left an imprint on her skin, scrawling notes and doodles from her failed revision session smudged across her face. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and sat up to see the one person she really didn't want to see. 

Ben sat across from her, heavy tome in hand and judging expression on his face. His hair was perfectly groomed, face cleanly shaven, and Rey felt even less put together than usual at the sight of him. 

“Oh, please tell me this isn't happening. ” She reached for her coffee cup and took a large sip, cringing when she realised it was stone cold. How long had she been asleep for? 

“Tell you what isn't happening?” He asked, opening his book and starting to copy down some quotations from it into his notebook.

“You being here, me having fallen asleep…” She gestured hopelessly, unable to find the right words for what she wanted to say. “Why did you wake me up?”

“You were snoring. It was distracting.” He continued his writing, not sparing her another glance. This irked her more than it usually did and she took the notebook out from under his pen. “What are you doing?”

“You didn't have to wake me up. You could have just sat somewhere else, or put in your earphones blasting music at full volume like you usually do.” She cut across, dodging as he tried to yank it from her grasp.

“Give that back,”

“And even if you did have to wake me, you didn't have to do it by whacking me on the back of my head with a bloody encyclopedia!”

“Give me my notebook. I need it.” He reached for it again and she held it behind her back so he would be able to get it.

“Well, I needed my sleep!” She could see his temper flaring, but she was so annoyed at him for just existing in that moment that she didn't care. 

“Give me the fucking notebook, Rey!” He grabbed her arm and yanked it out of her hands. The librarian on duty gave them both a dirty look and strode over angrily. 

“Both of you, out. Now.” The librarian glared at them. 

“Now look what you've done,” She hissed at Ben, shoving all her work into her backpack messily. He didn't move, giving her an incredulous look.

“What I've done? It wasn't a one-sided argument.”

“Listen here, you bastard--”

“Out!” The librarian yelled, and she scarpered out of there as quickly as possible. Ben followed, albeit slowly and casually. He took his time ordering his notes, putting all of his pens in rainbow order, generally pissing off the librarian more and more with every passing second, before whistling a happy tune and sauntering out.

She sat on the steps outside, watching people pass by on the street in front of her. The midday sun illuminated the streets, and she reveled in the feeling of it against her skin. Summer was finally here, her favourite season. She reached into her bag and fished out a sandwich she had made earlier, needing a boost of energy after whatever had just gone down in the library between her and Ben. 

He was insufferable, the absolute worst, the bane of her existence. Downright rude. Awful. He had hit her over the head with a book and it still hurt.

She sighed and leant against the metal railing, wondering what exactly her life had become. Napping and fighting with weird strangers in public libraries? This wasn't what she'd planned when she'd moved into her apartment in the city.

He came outside then and sat down beside her. She pointedly turned away. He touched her cheek lightly, curiously, and she slapped his hand hard. 

“What the hell was that?” She withdrew from him as far as she could, back flat against the cold metal.

“You've got blue pen all over your face.” He massaged his hand, jaw clenched in pain. “I was trying to get it off.”

“Oh.” She felt kind of bad for her violent reaction, but also felt that he deserved it for the stunt he pulled in the library. “Well, I can get it off myself.”

He offered her a tissue and she took it, pouring some water onto it and scrubbing away at her cheek. An awkward silence fell over them, the tension in the air was palpable. She didn't want to apologise for slapping him when he was trying to offer help, because he still hadn't apologised for waking her up. She knew that she should be the bigger person, but her stubbornness prevented her from that entirely. 

“Thanks.” She said slowly, putting the tissue into the bin nearby. “Is all of it off?” She tilted her chin up so he could examine it better for blue pen.

“Yes.” He replied after a moment.

Another awkward minute of silence. 

“Well, I should get going.” She gathered her bag and stood, desperate to leave. He looked up at her, expression infuriatingly neutral and unreadable. “I've got… studying I need to finish.”

“Sure, studying.” He dismissed, fiddling with the zips of his bag. They were stuck, and every sharp tug he tried seemed to make the problem worse. “Just like you were doing earlier.”

Not even bothering to grace him with a reply, she took the steps two at a time and left as quickly as possible, heading back to her crappy apartment. God, she needed coffee.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a longer chapter at last! Sorry this took a couple days, I was in London and didn't have any time to write. Again, thank you all so much for the kudos and comments! I love you guys so much!

“He's actually awful. I have a bruise on my head, look!” Rey lifted her hair to show Rose the spot she had been hit on the head. Rose examined it closely, thoughtfully, and went back to eating her salad. 

“Honestly, it's not that bad. It's just a little red.” Rose rolled her eyes and, after putting some on the salad, passed the bottle of dressing to her friend. Grumpily, Rey poured some over her own. She'd invited Rose to have lunch with her to have some girl time and to catch up, and had somehow ended up complaining about Ben for the majority of it. She probably wasn't being the best friend she could've been, but being kicked out of the library had really knocked her spirits down.

“Oh, stop moping, Rey.” Rose sighed and sipped from her glass of sparkling water. 

“I'm not moping,” She insisted because she really wasn't. She just wanted to go back to the library and actually get all her work done before the deadline. She also wanted some coffee and chocolate, along with a good nap. 

“Of course you're not. There are more important things in life to worry about,” Rose reminded her, waving a piece of lettuce in her direction.

A waiter came over at that moment to ask about the food, which meant that luckily the topic was dropped. She replied that the food was lovely, thank you, and to give compliments to the chef. The waiter happily obliged.

“So,” Rose leant forward conspiratorially. “This is girl time, and girl time means relationship gossip. Anything new in that department?”

Rey shook her head. Her love life was a stale as week old bread, although hopefully without the mould. Sure, in her time she'd had a few boyfriends, but she'd always ended the relationship after a maximum of two months. She just wasn't ready for that sort of commitment and found focusing on someone else and her studying too much to handle. In addition to that, she didn't really find anyone that attractive enough to pine over. Crush culture was all a bit ridiculous to her. “When was the last time I've had feelings for anyone? I can tell you've had something happen though, or you wouldn't have asked.”

“This guy in my Environmental Studies class.” Rose began a dramatic description. “He's funny, sweet, a bit taller than me, really fit. He sits in front of me. I think his name begins with an F? He always says hello to me when I walk in.”

“You have a crush on Finn?” Rey was taken aback, she'd never pictured those two together. Although, she could kind of see it now. However, the last time she saw Finn was when he was with Poe on Valentines, and she doubted that meant her friend had much chance with him. “Not to burst your bubble, but I'm pretty sure he has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” She looked a little deflated. “I'm working through it.”

“Hey, think about it this way. We'll be able to laugh at it for a few months once you get over him. Or if it's meant to be, it will be.” She finished off her food and gave Rose a small smile. “Either way, it will be fine.”

The door into the restaurant opened and the bell rang merrily. Drawn to the movement, she looked over to see who was walking in and the smile dropped off her face quickly. 

“Hey, you okay?” Rose touched her shoulder in concern, probably seeing the conflicted emotions flitting across her face as Ben strolled in. 

“Lord have mercy on my soul,” She whispered, eyes following him as he waited to be seated. This was the last thing she wanted on her day out with Rose. She thought she'd only have to deal with him at the library, but now he was haunting her wherever she went. 

Rose turned round in her chair and scanned the room, frowning slightly. “What is it?”

“It's him. By the door. It's Ben.” She kicked her under the table as a warning to stop being so obvious and drawing attention to them both.

“That's Ben?” Rose had gone wide eyed and turned back around to face her, looking at her as if in a new light. “Oh my god, Rey. You didn't mention he was hot. From your descriptions I imagined him to be a literal goblin.”

She wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow her up in that moment, or to wake up and realise this was all a cruel dream. “I think I'm going to be sick,”

Sure, she'd noticed that he looked… acceptable, but from all of the times they'd annoyed each other to the point of holding back angry/frustrated tears she just couldn't think of him like that. It was strange to even try and see it from Rose's perspective, so she soon stopped trying. 

Casually as she could, she rearranged the menus on their table to provide suitable cover. She watched as he strolled after the waiter and was seated by the window, just across from them both. Her heart was beating like mad, she was pretty much going through her fight or flight response. 

“This is the opposite of how I wanted today to go.” She groaned, sliding down the chair to try and hide more. “If he comes over I think I'm just gonna die on the spot.”

“You are so melodramatic.” Rose sipped her water and rolled her eyes. “Chill. He hasn't even noticed you're here.”

“Thanks, Rose, you've jinxed it.” She murmured just as they made the most awkward eye contact she'd ever suffered through before. It was weird to think of him existing outside of the library, as silly as it sounded, it was similar to the disorienting feeling you get when you see teachers outside of school. It felt completely wrong and out of place. Luckily, he looked away and shook his head, saving her from the possibility of having to talk to him.

“You should invite him to sit with us.” Rose commented, scrolling through her social media on her phone. “I mean, you've studied together right?”

“I should what now?” She gave her friend an incredulous look, really not wanting to go along with her plan. “Did you zone out of the conversation when I told you we spend most of the time annoying and insulting each other?”

“I'm just saying, he clearly wants to talk to you. He's just put off by the sour looks you're giving him, and rightly so.” She set her phone face down on the table and flicked Rey’s wrist. “Do it, or I will.”

“How about you don't.” She flicked her back, a little harder than their usual friendly ones. Rose pulled her arm back quickly with a short exclamation of pain. Steeling herself for what was most likely about to be the worst decision of her life, she gathered the courage to walk over to his table. He looked up from his menu.

“Ah, perfect. I'll have a glass of your finest red, the antipasti platter to start, and the sirloin steak cooked medium rare as my main course.” He listed off. 

She glared at him hard. “I'm not your waitress.”

“Well then, could you get me someone who is?” He raised an eyebrow delicately.

“No, do it yourself.”

“Wow, the service here is appalling.” He shook his head and spoke as though deeply offended. This shortened her already short tolerance for him.

“My friend wanted to invite you to sit with us. Apparently, she feels bad for you, sitting all alone by the window and has made me bring you to our table. Can't imagine why.”

“Neither. Why anyone would want to be subjected to sitting by you again is beyond me.” He carefully folded the menu back up and walked past her, knocking into her shoulder as she stood there, stunned. 

Once she had remembered how to move again, she soon followed after him. He sat down next to Rose, who gave him a bright smile and held out her hand.

“Hey, I'm Rose, Rey’s friend. You're Ben, right? I've heard a lot about you.”

He shook it, and actually gave Rose the ghost of a smile. She was sure she had to be dreaming then, this was so unreal. “Only good things, I'm sure.”

Rose laughed, picking up on the sarcasm in his tone. She caught Rey’s eye and mouthed ‘I like him’ while he wasn't looking. 

‘Well, I don't. He woke me up.’ She mouthed back, still not over that moment. She had a feeling she'd never be able to let it go, either.

Ben signalled to a waiter and placed a dessert order to be delivered with Rose and Rey’s. Silence reigned. In boredom, Rey started flexing her fingers, examining every fine line traced into her skin. Anything to avoid looking at her friend or, she supposed, her enemy.

“So…” Rose tried to put a stop to the tense atmosphere, pouring Ben a glass of water. “How long have you two known each other?”

“A week or so.” He took the glass with a nod of gratitude. “But we've only talked thrice in that time.”

“And we didn't get along, as you keep seem to be forgetting, Rose.” She grumbled under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. As fate dictated, both of them heard her remark.

“Because you interrupted me when I was working to ask dumb questions.” He said levelly, drinking the water and setting it back down pointedly carefully.

“You were not working! You were glaring at the book which was distracting when I was working,” She looked at him properly, dropping her hands to rest in her lap. “And let's not forget how you just watched as I had an argument with the librarian, all with a smug look on your face.”

“That's just my everyday expression, and besides, it was your problem not mine. I didn't realise you needed someone to come and do everything for you like a child.” He said it so calmly that it made Rey even more irked by him than usual.

“I do not act like a child!” She said hotly

“Guys,” Rose interjected hopelessly.

“What do you call this then? Do you really think yelling at me is helping your case?” He raised his eyebrow at her, his signature look towards her at this point. “And let's not forget who slapped the other when they were trying to help.”

“Because you hit me over the head and it bloody hurt, and got us kicked out the library!” She exclaimed, earning a few turned heads from the other people in the restaurant.

“Guys.” Rose said with a little more force, but neither of the pair listened. Rey was too full of pent up aggression towards Ben, and this had somehow turned into the most perfectly inconvenient venting opportunity.

“This again?” He was starting to look more pissed now, sighing despairingly with anger blatant across his face. “We got kicked out of the library because you took my notebook and wouldn't give it back, and then started yelling, calling me a bastard.”

“Guys!” Rose's final attempt at breaking the argument was futile once again. The two were too angry, making each other worse and worse with every retort flung.

“Because that's what you are, Ben, you're a bastard! That's not how it happened at all and you know it!” She stood up. Rose yanked her back down. A waiter turned on their heel and headed back into the kitchen they had come from.

“Ooh, resorting to name-calling again. Yes, Rey, I can see what a mature and intelligent adult you are now.” 

“Go to hell!”

“Get out of my restaurant!” A chef with a heavy French restaurant emerged from the kitchen. “You are disturbing the other customers!”

Sure enough, as she looked around she could see the eyes of everyone in the restaurant on her and Ben due to their heated argument. A mix of embarrassment, exertion, and anger burned her cheeks pink. Gathering her handbag, she stormed out without another glance. 

“I'm so sorry,” Rose's voice carried out of the restaurant door, tired and reasoning. “Sorry, they've had a bad day and don't get along at the best of times,”

“I've had enough of lover's quarrels in my fine establishment.” The chef replied frustratedly. “They are so destructive,”

Rey slammed the door on the way out, hard enough to create a loud crash from the bell. She'd rather die than be Ben's lover of all things, especially considering all the shit they'd done to each other. Promising herself a large vat of ice cream, she walked away quickly, hiding in the crowd, and took the bus to one of the local shops.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there! this is the longest chapter yet and I have honestly no idea how I got to this point. Inspiration just struck me hard and fast and I've got this 'beauty' to show for it. Hope you enjoy and thanks for the comments, kudos, bookmarks etc!!!

A week or so after the complete catastrophe that was now her life, Rey was back in the library. A librarian had been kind enough to call her and let her know that yes, she was allowed back in, but if there were more fights she would be back out quicker than she could say encyclopaedia britannica and banned permanently, although not in those exact words. So it was with some sort of strange joy that she stood in front of the large doors, arms filled with revision guides and coffee cup in hand, considering whether she should try and open it with her shoulder or foot. Luckily that decision was made for her when Leia spotted her struggles from her desk and held it open for her.

“Thanks,” She smiled at the woman gratefully, putting down all of her stuff on the nearest table. “If you hadn't helped me out there I think I would've been quite stuck.”

“You're welcome, dear.” Leia went over to a trolley filled with books ready to be stacked on the shelves and prepared to hand sort them, one by one. “So how have you been keeping? You haven't been around for the past couple days and I was starting to get worried.”

She tried not to think about how sad it was that not turning up to study in the library for two consecutive days was all it took for Leia to know that something was probably off. She took a moment to try and formulate a vague but convincing fabrication to cover up the fact that she hadn't shown up because she was trying to avoid someone. 

“I was busy…” She took a long sip of her coffee contemplatively and then walked over to help her put all the books on the shelves alphabetically. 

“What with?” Leia asked, scanning the labels on the spine of the books to fit one labelled MAL in the right place. She found it, and managed to create the right sized gap to fit it in. She repeated this process with several other books by the same author and Rey watched in relative silence, unsure whether to get into her problems or not.

It's not as though she thought Leia wouldn't care it would call her out on how ridiculous she was being, it was the fact she want exactly good at expressing and sharing her feelings in the first place to even think about the reactions they might cause. She started down at the book in her hands, seeing the letters printed on it but not reading it as such.

“It's nothing,” She decided dismissively, shaking her head and forcing her brain to read the label on the book. 

“You said that last time I asked about what's got you so glum and stressed.” The librarian finished the row for that author and picked up another random book, this one labelled MAN, the same as the one Rey was trying to place back on the shelves. 

“It's still true.” She tried, taking the book and putting it with hers on the space on the shelf she had just cleared. 

“I let you get away with it the first time. It's not good practice to bottle up and keep secrets.”

The way Leia said it made Rey feel almost bad. She'd done so such for her already in the three years they'd known each other. From offering her a roof over her head when she went through a rough financial patch and was sleeping on the sheets to offering to help her get onto the online uni courses she was taking, Leia had been there for her through thick and thin. She was so grateful for it, the mother like figure that the librarian had become to her, that it was really hard for her not to confess everything on the spot. She'd already had a complain and a whinge to Rose, and just wanted to get over it already. Back to work, forget Ben. Easy enough.

“There's some guy,” She went for a retelling as vague as possible and spoke with forced nonchalance. “And he's kind of annoying but he intrigues me. I want to know him, but he doesn't want to be known by me. We end up insulting each other and getting kicked out of places because of our arguments. ”

“Oh, one of those men, is he?” Leia gave her a knowing look. “Arrogant, scruffy, conceited, knows just how to irritate you and does it all with a cocky smile?”

“Exactly.” She nodded, finishing off the load of stacking and pulling up and armchair to get more comfortable. “He's the literal worst.”

“I doubt he's really that bad. But I know how you're feeling. When I first met Han we didn't get along at all, in fact all of our uni friends joked about our rivalry and the way we'd rip each other to shreds with words. But we eventually fell in love and got married, leading to the birth of my son.” She recounted the story fondly, one of a much simpler time where rivalries could blossom into family and dislike could turn to attraction and love. A time that Rey knew she'd never be able to experience, and never wanted to.

“I have no romantic feelings towards him at all, and I don't see how I could ever develop them.” She frowned, the idea her feel strange and kind of uncomfortable. 

“That's what I thought, dear.” The librarian gathered up the remaining books. “We'll see. But if he does go too far, let me know and I'll give him a talking to for you.”

“Enough talk about my non-existent love life. Can I just go and study like I'm meant to be doing?” She tried to fish for a quick way out of the conversation, feeling as though she was being analysed by Leia. She didn't quite like the sensation, too used to being in the metaphorical shadows all the time, so when she was the centre of a person's attention she didn't know how to act in the slightest. 

“Yes, go ahead. Get your education.” She nodded, ticking off a few boxes on a to do list she kept in her pocket. “Thank you for helping with shelving these, by the way.”

“You're welcome, I always like helping you out.” Rey got up from the chair and carried it back to its original position. She waved a goodbye as Leia went into the maze of books to shelve more in the F section.

She pulled out her slightly broken phone, her half working earphones, and put on some music while trying to actually get some studying done. Due to one event or the other she'd been entirely unsuccessful in that front for over a week, and it was beginning to stress her out a bit. If she was going to get good results and a good job, she has to work hard now and play later. That was her new mantra, and she repeated it to herself as she waded through the multiple subject syllabuses, creating a list of everything she had to catch up on. It amounted to a lot of work, most of her weekend being spent here to get up to date, and a whole lot of coffee to power her through all of it. 

Somehow, the crappy tunes were doing a sufficient job for her so far, and she'd finished the English Language work in just under three hours, beating her estimation of four. She dropped her pen triumphantly, massaging her cramped hand. Someone sat in the chair opposite her and she looked up, slightly shocked. 

Ben looked awful. His hair was matted and tangled, he had massive dark circles under his eyes, and the shirt he wore was crumpled. His eyes were tired and defeated, the usual dark and deep but now empty and almost… sad. 

“Ben?” She said, apprehensive, because she wasn't sure what else to say in a time like this. “Are you… what happened?”

Silence. The atmosphere grew more uncomfortable by the second.

“You look like shit.” She attempted to provoke some sort of reaction from him, whatever it may be. 

“Thanks for that observation, Rey. I hadn't noticed.” He snarled, taking her coffee cup and draining it in one. He grimaced and coughed.

“That was mine when you've quite finished,” She took the empty cup from him and chucked it into the nearby bin. He didn't look at her face, instead at his fingers laced together. 

“It was disgustingly sweet. How the fuck do you drink that?”

“You're changing the subject.” She poked him with the end of her pencil lightly. Enough to be a warning, but not enough to hurt. 

“Well done for noticing, do you want a round of applause or something?” He was being more sharp than usual, none of his usual calm and cool rude. This was fiery and dangerous rude, and made her more curious about why he was acting that way towards her. 

“No, I want you to stop lashing out at me because of whatever has happened to you.” 

“I don't want to talk about it.” He kept his gaze down, away from her, as though he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.

“Then why did you sit across from me?”

What might have been confusion flitted across his face. He seemed unsure, his brows drawn together and lips slightly parted. He had no easy or direct answer to her question and his response was clipped. “I don't know.”

She sighed, drumming her fingertips lightly on the desk. For some reason she felt compelled to help him, and he wasn't making it easy in any way. “Just tell me why you look like you haven't slept in a week and got dragged backwards through a hedge. I can help you.”

“I don't want your help.” He squared his shoulders.

“Stop being such a child.” She fought to keep calm, knowing that getting further frustrated with him would only make the situation worse.

“Piss off.”

“No.”

Silence again. 

“Look, I know you came here to talk to me, no matter how much you want to try and kid yourself you don't. I get that talking is tough so I'll let you take your time to gather your thoughts. Just say when you're ready to talk.” She opened her books again and got back to work. An hour of silence dragged by, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as she had anticipated it to be. She got quite a bit more work done, finishing one of her long essays. She was just about to start another when Ben spoke up.

“Family.”

She looked up, tilting her head to the side slightly. Her pen hovered above an uncrossed t. “What?”

“It's a family problem. My father and I had a massive argument a few nights ago and I had to get out the house. I slept on my classmates sofa.” He didn't look anywhere in her direction.

“For how long?” She questioned, closing the books carefully and leaning on them so she could pay him her full attention. 

“A week. It wasn't comfortable.” 

“Ben,” She inhaled sharply “That's awful. I'm sorry,”

“I don't want your pity.” He met her gaze, eyes boring into hers. Slightly uncomfortable, she cleared her throat quietly and glanced away. “We were arguing about my future. I study a combination of Art and Classics and wanted to continue down that path, but he said that I was only setting myself up for failure because there isn't any stability and I'd most likely end up broke and homeless. Apparently, it's not a real job.”

She bit the inside of her lip, carefully considering her next words. “If you love it, go for it. It's your life. If you want to become an artist, work damn hard and achieve your goals. You of all people can do it.”

“You sound so much like one of those motivational speakers.” He groaned, head in his hands. 

“Is that really such a bad thing though?” She asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Yes, they're fucking annoying.” He scoffed, effectively darkening it.

“Language,” She chided half heartedly.

“Now you sound like my mother.” He sighed deeply and attempted to detangle some of his hair.

“How does she fit into all of this? Does she support you?” Veering the conversation back on track, she studied him closely. 

“Well, yes and no. She doesn't understand why or approve, but she knows she can't change my mind. So if that counts as being supportive then yes.”

“Have you talked to your dad since you left home?” She questioned.

“No.” He responded sharply.

“I think you should,” She said thoughtfully, frowning in concentration. 

“I think you should stop trying to solve problems I didn't ask you to. My life isn't some fucking logic puzzle for you to figure out.” He said, fists clenched by his sides. She could tell his anger was bubbling to the surface, but she didn't want to backpedal or let him push her around.

“Stop being unnecessarily rude.” She gave him a hard stare which he returned with one of his own. After a few moments, he relented and continued his recount.

“So Hux let me crash on his sofa in his apartment. I'm grateful and all, but his cat is such a nuisance. She hisses at me whenever I move or am near her at all.” Ben fidgeted uncomfortably, not enjoying being the center of her undivided attention.

“Maybe it's because you always go around with a sour look on your face,” She teased lightly. To her surprise, a small smile broke through the sadness he'd been previously displaying.

“I'm sure that's it, Rey. No other explanation like the cat literally being a demon, which is a theory that I think has a lot of evidence supporting it.”

She laughed a little and put her hand over his casually. He loosened the fists he had balled them into fractionally. 

“Look, how about we go and get some coffee and continue talking there?” She suggested “Then we can come back here and get work done later. It's hard to have a conversation like this when it's meant to be quiet.”

Ben sighed, looked down at their hands. He moved his from under hers and, feeling her offer rejected, she leant back. 

“Never mind, it was a dumb idea. We can't stand each other.” She shook her head and held up the book on front of her face, reading the same sentence around five times accidentally. Concentration was difficult, made worse by the awkwardness hanging over them.

“I think coffee would be good.” He replied eventually. 

She lowered the book to look at him in surprise. “Really?”

“What, did you want me to say no?” He raised an eyebrow, back more to his usual self. “There's no way I'm going to turn down an offer of free coffee.”

“I guess it's settled then.” She said softly, shocked that he had actually agreed to do this with her. 

“It is.” He stood up and offered her a hand up, looking more energetic than she'd ever seen him, and that was even before the caffeine. Dazed, she took it and let him pull her to her feet. He soon dropped her hand and turned on his heels, leaving to go to the cafe. She scrambled to shove all of her stuff into her bag; he was showing no sign of waiting. 

“Wait up!” She called kind of quietly, trying to abide by the library rules even still. He didn't stop, but he did slow his pace. It was a strange act, one that she wouldn't have expected from him at all. Maybe there was more to Ben than what she had seen at first glance.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow look at me updating! it's nearly the end of my break unfortunately, so updates will probably slow from my every couple of days, but I will try to write as much as possible! ily guys!
> 
> also if u wanna stalk me my instagram is @haleaway :)

Rey pushed open the door to the coffee shop on the corner of the road, holding it open for Ben. He walked through in silence, the same silence that had been present the entire walk down. He made his way to a table by the window which overlooked the street and sat down. She paused a moment, conflicted. Then, acting more confident than she felt about the way this was going to go, she sat down on the chair beside him and watched the children playing in the street with him. The smallest, a willowy dark haired girl with pale skin, threw a colourful ball across the square to her friend. He missed the catch and disappointedly picked it up off the ground, running a distressed hand through his mop of curly hair. They began the game of catch again, the boy getting better and better with every turn.

Soon bored, she looked away and touched Ben's arm lightly. He tore his gaze away as though coming out of a trace and looked at her questioningly. It wasn't hostile as his previous looks towards had been, just open and patient. Emboldened, she flicked him gently.

“What do you want to drink?” She asked, looking up at his face. He still looked like a wreck despite his attempts to comb his hair on the way over, but at least he wasn't snapping or glaring at her. Progress had been made on some front, although she wasn't entirely sure what that front was or if it mattered at all.

“Black coffee, signature blend.” He responded, turning back to watching the people outside. A blue and green kite flew amongst the clouds, cutting an arc among the skyline. The teenager flying it smiled, in a small moment of childlike joy that she didn't see in anyone much.

“Do you take milk? Sugar?” She leant on her elbows on the table in front of them, watching the way the waterfall outside made the sunlight fragment and sparkle across the white paving. It resembled the effect of a crystal chandelier, beautiful and expensive looking.

“Do I seem like someone who takes either?” He knocked his foot against hers hard enough to hurt, but not so hard that it was a malicious action. Payback for the flicks, she assumed.

A half smile graced her lips. “Good point, I didn't need to ask.”

She joined the queue and when it got to her turn, ordered a large black coffee and a medium vanilla latte. She waited by the counter, humming a tune while the drinks were being made. A few moments later, she carried the tray over to their table as carefully as she could, paranoid that she was going to trip over and spill the whole thing. Ben looked up, acknowledging her arrival, and helped her set the mugs down on the table. 

“Thanks.” She sat back down, taking a long sip of her latte. It was too hot and burned her tongue, but she tried not to show how much pain she was in.

“No problem.” He sipped his coffee without flinching at the temperature or bitterness. She briefly wondered if he was some strange demon set from hell to torment her, there was enough evidence to back it up. 

“So…” She set her mug down, blowing on the coffee to cool it down. “You want to be an artist?”

“Correct.” He nodded, opening a bag of peanuts he produced from his pocket. He took a handful then placed the bag between them. “Always have been.”

“Can I see your work? What kind of stuff do you do?” She took a few of the nuts and ate them, warming her hands with the sides of her mug. She was intrigued by the idea of him being an artist, as it was so opposite to the way in which she pictured him. She thought he was much more of an academic, probably a literature nerd or maybe even an athlete because of the way he was built. It seemed so in contrast with what she knew about him that she found herself more confused by him than when they'd first met.

“It's a mixture of surrealism and portraits depending on my mood. Sometimes a strange combination of the two.” He dug into his bag and took out a small, decrepit notebook covered in coffee stains and handed it to her. “The first ones are really bad.”

She opened it delicately, looking at the charcoal sketches in the front. The rough strokes and the soft details, the strange form created was incredible. “Did you draw these yourself?” She asked, impressed, leafing through the section of portraits. She didn't understand why he seemed to think these were bad, they were the total opposite. She loved the composition of his drawings too, the textures, everything.

“No, I paid someone else to draw it then decided to pass them off as my own.” He said sarcastically, to which Rey rolled her eyes. 

“Okay, Mister Smartass.” She hit him over the head with the notebook, standing on tiptoe so she could reach. “They're really good. I was just surprised.”

“Why surprised?” He asked over the rim of his coffee cup, taking another long sip of the bitter drink. It made her cringe to watch him drinking something so bitter.

“I don't know exactly, you just never struck me as someone who'd enjoy art. I mean, you definitely have the whole tortured soul artist thing going on, don't get me wrong,” She shrugged, taking another handful of peanuts. “Just threw me off.”

“You thought you had me all figured out, huh?” He smirked at her, taking a few peanuts from her hand rather than the packet. She quickly took her hand away to stop him stealing more, cradling it in her lap. “I think you'll find there's more to me than meets the eye.”

“Well, I know that now.” Rey huffed, taking a sip of her latte, thankful it was now an acceptable temperature and not like swallowing lava. She closed the notebook and passed it back to him. He put it back into his bag without much care, shoving it in so it would fit. 

“That aside, you know too much about me now.” He finished his coffee and put the empty packet of peanuts onto the tray, ready to clean it up. “It's your turn to tell me about you, so that we're even.”

“Uhh, okay. What do you want to know?” She stirred her latte with a spoon and added in a packet of sugar. He cringed as he watched her do so, muttering something about it being bad enough already. 

“What are your family like?”

The dreaded question. She looked away from his face, down at her hands in her lap and tried to search for the right words to explain. ‘Awful’ would be an okay way of putting it, although she didn't want to leave it open to further questions. She could lie, but that would only cause more problems in the future. 

“I don't have a family.” She stared down at the sugary dregs of coffee left in her mug, examining them as if they might provide emotional support. It still hurt, and damn it shouldn't after all these years, but thinking about how she had been abandoned outside a train station with her mother's promise to come back soon still made her eyes sting. It was a deep wound that had never fully healed and she doubted it ever would. 

“Everyone has a family. Not just by blood.” He mused, surveying her curiously. 

“Then I suppose Rose is the closest thing to family I have. She's almost like a sister to me,” She responded carefully, finishing off her latte with a forced sigh of nonchalance. “So there's that. I don't really want to talk about it.”

She could tell he was curious, desperate to know more. She just wasn't ready to get into it especially since they didn't exactly like each other. He seemed like the kind of person who would use it against her, so it came as a surprise to her when he simply shrugged and got out of his chair. “Okay. I'm going to go back to the library and study. Thanks for the coffee,”

More surprised than ever at the fact he was actually thanking her for her actions rather than being snappy and rude, she looked up at him in amazement. “Oh, no problem. You looked like you needed it.”

He inclined his head towards her, beginning to walk away. He got as far as the door before Rey got out of her seat and followed him.

“Hold up, Ben,” He paused, allowing her to catch up with him. “I just wanted to say I strangely enjoyed having coffee with you.”

“I don't know if I could say the same in return.” He said flatly, and she thought he may have been joking. Though there was the possibility he wasn't.

“Oh. Well then.” Slightly deflated, she fell into step with him as they walked back to the library. The sun was high in the afternoon sky, summer a welcome blessing once again. In her flowy off shoulder blouse and shorts along with a pair of sunglasses, she was appropriately dressed for the weather. Ben, however, was not. He must have been sweltering in his all black ensemble and she pointed this fact out to him.

“Aren't you hot in that?” She asked, gesturing towards his black t-shirt and jeans.

“I'm flattered you think so, Rey.” He replied, taking completely the wrong meaning from her words. 

“I didn't mean it in that way! Just that it's really warm outside and black absorbs heat, so temperature wise you must be boiling.” She hastily clarified, a light blush on her cheeks; she tried to hide it by turning to look at the books in a shop window. “And probably really sweaty too.”

“So are you saying you don't think I'm physically attractive?” He raised an eyebrow which she saw in the reflection of the glass. This made the whole situation worse, she was at a complete loss for how to reply to that without digging herself deeper into a hole.

“No? Yes? I don't know, your personality kind of ruins everything you had going for yourself in that department.” She took the sunglasses from the top of her head and placed them on her face. “From one ten to another, looks don't mean you can be a whiny asshole and get away with it.”

She carried on walking after speaking her mind, making sure not to look at him too much. Only so that she was sure he was still following and hadn't run off while he had the chance, as she would have done in his position. Once they reached the doors of the library, he held one open for her in a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture. Kind of shocked, she walked through. The moment was too good to be true, though, and the door that hit her hard in the side was more or less expected.

“That hurt.” She glared at him, massaging her hip.

“It's almost as if it was meant to.” He breezed past her, clearing a table for them to work on. Miffed, she followed and helped him move spare stationery and rubbish so they had enough space to both work comfortably. She sat down and took out her old laptop, plugging in the charger into one of the ports in the wall. She drummed her fingertips on the table while she waited for it to log on. 

“You should get a new laptop,” Ben said, glancing up from one of the papers he was writing. Again she found herself distracted by how aesthetically pleasing his handwriting was. “It's distracting; whirring really loudly.

“There's not much I can do about it. Get earplugs or something.” She dismissed, logging in and trying to find the essay she had started earlier that day. She checked her documents, her downloads, her desktop, and found nothing. Confused, she even looked through the folders pictures and videos but also came up with nothing. A cold feeling of dread pooling in her stomach, she tried to search for what she was sure she had named the document. Nothing again. Panic started to set in, and she triple checked every place she could think it may have saved.

“Oh no. Oh god.” She breathed, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” He paused where he was writing, pen hovered over an unfinished word.

“I can't find my essay anywhere. I nearly finished it this morning!” Disappointment was setting in fast along with a deep sadness. “Fuck, it's due in tomorrow!”

“Okay, calm down. Check the drafts in the program you did it in and all the previous revisions section before you freak out.” He instructed, trying to keep her level-headed and not doing a very good job of it. She opened Word and tried to restore the file the way he had described, but nothing worked. The file was well and truly gone. 

“No,” She said miserably, looking at the blank document in front of her. “This is the worst moment of my life. What am I going to do?” Tired, she rested her head in the table and closed her eyes. 

Hand awkwardly hovering above her, he attempted to get her attention. “Hey, it's just an essay. It doesn't matter in the long run.”

“It does. This one's important.” Her voice was muffled by the table and, exhausted, she fought back tears of frustration. “I didn't save a backup copy or anything…”

“If it's so important why did you leave it until the day before it's due?” He asked, with a look that meant it was clear he was judging her poor decisions.

“Because I'm an idiot, okay!” She looked up in despair. Her stress level was steadily amounting, the idea of starting from scratch or just not doing it at all was horrific. 

“It's fine. Stop freaking out.”

“You telling me that isn't helping, Ben!”

“Well what do you want me to do?!”

“Help me out!”

He let out a long sigh, glancing at his watch. “Okay what time is it due tomorrow?”

“9am.” She answered dully, mentally planning her funeral already.

“So it's 4pm now, which means that you have 17 hours including sleep and eating. That's not so bad. How long does it need to be?” He calculated, tapping his pen on the paper in front of him. 

“At least 7500 words.” She lifted her head off the table and gave him a thoroughly sad look. “I'm done for.”

“No, you're not. Stop complaining. The quicker we get started the quicker we'll get it done.” He took the sheet of paper with the description if the task and scanned over it, nodding.

“Wait, ‘we’?” She questioned, frowning at him slightly.

“Okay, so we'll need some reference books, a few encyclopedias, and some contemporary poetry.” He listed off, deep in thought.

“What do you mean, ‘we’?” She restated, wondering if he really meant what was implied by what he'd been saying.

“Yes, we.” He took a few books off the nearby shelves and met her confused gaze. “What? You asked for help, didn't you?”

“Well, yes, I didn't exactly expect to get it,” She stood up and helped him out, carrying the books he passed her in stacks back to her table. He tutted and rolled his eyes, focused on finding books. 

Around ten minutes later they had a mountain of reference material on their table, ready to get to work. Looking over all of it and Ben who was already hard at work, she had a feeling that this was going to be one of the longest afternoons of her life. Deciding complaining wasn't going to help in the slightest, she sat down next to him and got started.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there, beautiful readers!  
> this wasn't supposed to take a week, but sometimes life is a bitch, ya know?  
> anyways, I hope you enjoy! :)

“So now think of the connotations of the word ‘fire’. What springs to mind when you see it?” Ben asked her, pointing at the mind map he had carefully drawn as part of an essay plan with the end of his pen. Rey sighed, they'd been at this sort of thing for half an hour already, and she was beginning to tire of it.

“Well, heat. It hurts a lot when you get burned. Danger, passion, Hell…” She listed, scribbling it down on the paper in front of her.

“And?” He prompted, tapping the pen to the table. “Come on, think about the duality of it! It's bad but also…”

“Comforting! Like when it's winter and you sit by the fireplace to keep warm. And warmth can mean safety and security.” She smiled, glad she was finally starting to understand this exercise, even though it wasn't exactly useful just yet.

“Adequate, make sure you get that down.” He sat back in his chair, and she caught a glimpse of the ghost of a smile on his face, a rarity. Kind of pleased that she was the reason that smile was there, whether because he was happy with her or being mocking, she did as he said and wrote it down on the mind map.

“Okay, what now?” She gathered all of the notes they had made together in front of her and borrowed some of his lined paper to hand write her essay on. She wasn't going to take anymore chances with technology after the disaster that had put her in this position.

“Now we refill our coffee cups then get started on the introduction.” He stood up and took his mug over to a kettle they had plugged into the wall socket and hidden under the table. She followed, her own mug in hand. He spooned out the instant coffee granules into them, also dumping a few spoonfuls of sugar into hers. The kettle began to boil, whistling something awful. She really hoped no one would hear it and tell them off. There wasn't a rule against making hot drinks in the library under the table, but it was something so absurd to do that she doubted anyone would even think of bothering to make a one against it. She also hoped they wouldn't get kicked out again. She'd had enough of that.

He carefully poured the hot water into their mugs and passed her a coffee stirrer. Reluctantly, she stirred it and watched as he took a long sip without wincing one bit. Her dislike for shitty coffee made her apprehensive to take a sip herself, but since they'd gone to all the trouble if setting this up, she decided to just do it. 

“That tastes horrendous. Why can't we have real coffee?” She complained, setting her mug down on the table.

“Beggars can't be choosers.” He took another long sip, scanning over the essay plan and then glancing at his expensive watch. She really wanted to ask him about that, but now wasn't the time. “All the cafés are closed, it's 8pm.”

She sighed, knowing he was speaking the truth whether she liked it or not. “Ugh. Let's just get started on the essay, then tomorrow I'm buying us both real, actually nice coffee, the most extra and expensive one I can find.”

“As celebration for completing this, I assume?”

“Or as a non alcoholic way to drown my sorrows.”

“Fair enough. Okay, introduction. Start by introducing your thesis in a way that grabs the reader's attention and isn't so dull it will bore them before you've even got to your points.” He knew a lot about this sort of thing, she noticed, and assumed it was probably the result of his parents forcing him into academics. “Remember: clarity, credibility, and something else beginning with c, I don't know.”

The ‘c’ her introduction seemed to be following was ‘crap’, she too tired already to begin strongly. The words didn't come naturally, and her attempts at forcing them out were futile. Glaring down at the paper, she struggled to even form a coherent sentence. Nothing worked, nothing read right, and she was becoming more and more stressed as the clock on the wall opposite her ticked onwards.

“This is horrific.” She crumpled the sheet of paper into a ball and chucked it over at the bin. It hit the edge and fell onto the ground. “Oh, that's peak.” She said with quite a bit of ferocity, marching over and putting it in properly so there was no way it would miss. She made her way back to the table, a sour look on her face.

“You really have no patience,” He marveled, scrutinising her expression. It made her feel a little like an animal on display at a zoo, so she made sure to convey how uncomfortable she felt. Luckily he took the hint and turned back to the books. “Okay. So introductions are hard. Let's start from the first point instead.”

He continued to instruct her in that way, pointing out bits of information from her notes, adding his own insight sometimes, and even at one point running to the reference books to find her some context about the text. Whenever she had a question or wanted to expand a point, he would question her and nitpick the argument she was trying to make to pieces. Initially this annoyed her, and resulted in her ignoring him for a good twenty minutes. However, she had to admit that as little as she liked his sarky nature, it was helping her writing improve through critical thinking. 

He was actually being surprisingly nice generally, still rude at points but nowhere near as mean as he'd been to her previously. Perhaps they were making some progress towards being able to tolerate each other. Or maybe being dead tired and fuelled by caffeine had strange effects on them. 

The next time he checked up on how her essay was going it was 11pm, and fatigue and bone deep exhaustion was weighing her down. Rey passed her paper over to him and he pulled out a green pen, scribbling notes all over it in the way a teacher would mark a student's work. She stretched out the cramps she had from writing nonstop in an uncomfortable chair over a weirdly tall table and waited for his verdict.

“Good so far…” He began, tapping his pen on the paper to some rhythm in his head. He added on a few more green pen notes and frowned as he read one of her most recent paragraphs. Shaking his head, he crossed it out. “What happened there? That bit made no sense.”

“It's almost as if it's late at night, I can't write for shit, and I'm stressed because it's due in soon.” She said sarcastically, snatching the paper back from him. “‘At least try to pretend you know what you're talking about’? ‘That's bloody obvious’? ‘Incorrect’?” She read the annotations he'd made out loud, becoming more annoyed by the second. “Thanks a lot, that's really helpful stuff. Definitely not just degrading and useless.”

“Do you want help or not?” He drank more of the instant coffee, showing no signs of tiredness at all.

“I do! I want actual help! Comments that will help me get this finished quickly so I can get at least five hours sleep!” She hissed, reading more and more of the green notes all over her paper. A couple were a little helpful, but she didn't want him to know that. “And why did you scribble all over my paper? I'm going to have to write it all out again to hand it in!”

“I suppose you will.” He replied pensively, flicking through a small, old book about art that had nothing to do with the essay she was writing. “Well, it's a valuable lesson for you. Do the work before you have to ask me for help and you won't have these sort of problems.”

Gritting her teeth, she got back to work. She continued where she'd left off, deciding she would copy it out into a final document when they'd finished going over it to make sure it was at least semi good. The essay was coming a bit easier to her now, and she found she was spending less five minute intervals staring into space, trying to think of what to write next. Ben put the kettle on again, and she wrote to the melody of the quiet whistling and the beat of the spoon hitting the mug as he stirred it. He placed her mug in front of her and, engrossed in the essay, she didn't look up or thank him.

She wrote for half an hour more in silence, sipping from her coffee at random intervals as motivation. He sat draped over his chair, book open and slight frown on his face. When her train of thought came to a standstill, she set her pen down and watched him turn the pages. She wondered what was making him frown, or is it was just his natural reading expression. He sure did frown an awful lot. Sensing her eyes on him, he looked up.

“Are you finished?” He asked, voice scratchy with tiredness. He pushed his messy hair back from his face to fix her with a questioning look when she didn't reply immediately, closing his book after slipping in a bookmark.

“Uh, no.” She glanced down at where she'd left off, mind still blank as to what to write next. “I only have a thousand words left and I'm bored, tired, and just done.”

He got out of the chair, stretching, and joined her on the other side of the table. He stood behind her, reading where she'd got to over her shoulder. She could smell his cologne, a mix of sea salt and something almost leathery, although she supposed that was from his jacket. She felt her breath catch in her throat from the awkwardness that was being so close to him and fought the urge to sneeze. He scanned over the page, nodding slightly, then pulled out a pencil and made a few edits.

“It's good. Just wrap up your points and then you're done.” He said lowly, his breath warm on her ear. Uncomfortable to say the least, she shuffled across on her seat to try and put more distance between them, taking her essay with her.

“Okay.” She angled herself differently too, not tired enough to be able to deal with anyone being this close to her, let alone her sort of worst enemy and biggest pain in the ass. “You can go back to reading.”

He did as she said, pushing off the table and sauntering back over to the armchair, opening his book again. She tried to write her essay, but her mind kept drifting back to the way she had almost shivered when he had been in such a close proximity to her. She knew he had no ulterior motives for what he'd done, if he had she wouldn't have hesitated to slap him, so didn't know why it kept tugging at her conscience with every comma she punctuated with her pen. 

After another hour of silence, she finished the final sentence of her final essay. She put the lid on her pen and leant back in her chair, immensely proud of herself. She downed the last of her coffee in one and ordered the pages together, checking that it all made grammatical sense.

“Ben, could you pass me that paperclip?”

“I could, but I don't know if I want to.” He replied without looking up. “Try asking a different question.”

She huffed in annoyance and kicked him under the table. “Just give it here, asshole.”

He obliged, flicking it in an arc through the air and across the table. Miraculously, she managed to cat herself it with one hand. Smiling to herself, she clipped the papers together and rested her head on the table. She was completely exhausted, and ended up putting her head down on the array of pencils and pens as a pillow. It wasn't comfortable.

“Ow,” She breathed when one of the sharp tips stabbed her in the forehead. She surveyed the area for any comfortable armchairs like the one he was in, but there weren't any. Uncomfortable sleeping position it was, then. The clock struck 1am, marking over 6 hours since she'd started that goddamn essay. She closed her eyes and willed herself to get some rest so she wouldn't be so tired the next day. The gentle tick of the second hand on the clock did a good job of making her sleepy, and she let out a little yawn. In her half asleep state, she heard him shift and stand up.

“Oh, Rey.” He sighed under his breath, nearby. She heard a rustle, and then the pencils under her head was replaced by something much softer and warm, his leather jacket, she assumed. 

Bleary, she looked up at him and gave him a small smile, pulling the jacket closer to her and getting more comfy. To her utter surprise, he half smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was maybe thinking of making a play list to accompany this fic but I don't know if I should. Please comment any other ideas for little accompanying things I could do!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whey we're back with another chapter! Sorry for not updating very regularly, I've had a busy week. I will defo try to write more at the weekend to make up for it though!

Rey woke up the next morning to a cramped neck and horrific stress-induced headache. She groaned and sat up, shielding her eyes from the light pouring in through the windows. The finished essay lay on the table in front of her in a plastic wallet, named and labelled. All of her stuff was exactly as she left it before falling asleep. The only thing that wasn't the same was the fact that Ben was nowhere to be seen. She glanced down at the jacket she had been using as a pillow, checking for his belongings around the table. They were all gone. 

A scrap of paper fell to the floor when she moved the jacket, and she hastened to catch it before it hit the floor. She unfolded it and read the message written in black ink.

‘Had to dash, didn't want to wake you. Don't bother returning the jacket.  
\- Ben.’

She frowned and slipped the paper into her pocket. How he thought she'd be able to return it to him to bother not to baffled her, considering they only saw each other sporadically at the library and she had literally no other form of contact with him.

It was surprisingly cold in the library for the height of summer, the air conditioning was turned on and she shivered as the cool air touched her bare arms. She slipped on Ben's jacket and walked over to the printer to scan her essay and upload it online using one of the library computers.

She spent the next ten minutes scanning it and double checking she definitely had the files, before composing a brief email and attaching the files, then sending it. After that, she gathered up all of the scrap paper on the table she'd been working on, grabbed the mugs, and put the rest of the instant coffee into her bag. Relieved all her stress was over, she decided to go for a walk outside to enjoy the sunshine. 

On her way out she passed by the front desk and stopped for a quick chat with the librarian. Aware she looked like an utter mess from sleeping awkwardly for less than six hours, she tried for a bright smile to make up for that fact.

“Hey, Leia.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and attempted to brush through the tangles in her hair with her fingers.

“Hello, Rey.” The woman looked up from the computer screen and gave her a warm smile, offering her a biscuit from a tin hidden under the desk. She took one gratefully. “Study hard last night?”

“Yeah. It was kinda awful. I had this essay that I did but then I lost the file so had to it all again.” She rocked back on her heel slightly, holding back a yawn. “But I got help with it so it wasn't so bad in the end.”

“That's good to hear, dear. Who helped you?” The librarian asked, sorting through the recently returned books and putting post-it notes on some of them.

“Oh, some guy. The one who I complained to you about.” She said dismissively, waving a hand in the air. 

“That one. Well then.” Leia looked at her with that same knowing glance from the last conversation they'd had, and she cringed internally. She was in no way attracted to Ben. “Have you been spending a lot of time with him?”

“We study together, so yes.” She left out the bit about all of the time she spent being pissed at him, and the fact he'd given her his jacket. She knew that Leia would definitely interpret that gesture the wrong way and then she'd never hear the end of it. “But not by choice.”

“And you've stopped being kicked out of places because of your arguments now?”

“I hope so. It was so awkward last time.” She sighed, glancing at the clock. It was time for her to grab something to eat along with a cup of good coffee.

Sensing that she wanted to leave, Leia simply nodded. “I can see you're hungry. We'll talk later.”

“Thank you, see you.” She smiled a little and left with a slight skip in her step. Now that she'd completed the essay and didn't have anything too important coming up to her knowledge, she felt free and very relaxed. The sun warmed her and though she wore the jacket the gentle breeze kept her at an ideal temperature. The walk to her apartment was a relatively short one, only made interesting when she nearly got hit by a car when crossing the road. She escaped unscathed, though, and unlocked the door to her flat.

A stack of mail greeted her on her doormat, and she stepped over it carefully. She opened a few of the bills and one stray birthday card that had probably been lost in the post a few weeks before and only just made its way to her. It was from Finn, her other best friend beside Rose. She hadn't spoken to him in a while and felt immensely bad about it. From all her school work to his uni nights and new boyfriend, they'd fallen out of touch for a few weeks. 

She picked up her phone from where she'd left it on the armrest of the sofa and decided to call him. He picked up after a couple of rings and hearing his voice made her smile.

“Hey, Rey. Long time no talk!”

She laughed at that and sat down on the sofa, stupidly happy to be back in contact with him again. “I know, I know, I said I'd call you earlier…”

“Mhm. It's been a few months.” He chided, sounding lighthearted to her relief. If he'd been truly upset it would've made her feel even more guilty than she already did. 

“I just got the birthday card from you today. Thanks, by the way.” She opened it, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder. A small picture fell out of the two of them pulling silly faces at the camera, one taken last summer by Rose when they spent the weekend on a budget holiday together. Warmth spread through her, and she made a note to get a picture frame for it later. “Aww, you printed out that picture! I love it. You're the best.”

“I know I am,” He sounded quite pleased with himself. She got up from the sofa and put the photo on her bedside table.

“Even though it's like a month late.” She scoffed jokingly.

“Even though this conversation is two months late.” He replied without missing a beat. 

“Touché.”

“Anyway,” He moved on. “How's life been treating you? Anything interesting happen? Especially in the love department?”

She managed to suppress a deep sigh. He asked her this question every single call, and every time she reported back negative. Why he still bothered asking, she didn't know. “Finn, if I somehow managed to get myself a boyfriend or girlfriend, you'd be the first one to know. So no.”

“Aw, long as you're happy. Well, anything happen generally?” He changed the question slightly and she could tell he was trying not to start talking about himself. He probably had some rather large news. 

“Not really, either. More stressful deadlines. Oh my god, yesterday my essay deleted itself and I had to rewrite all of it in not very much time at all.” She fiddled with the zip on the leather jacket absently. “It was horrific, but I got it done. But enough about me, what about you? I can tell you're itching to spill the beans.”

“Okay, well. Poe and I are thinking of moving in together in the future. We don't have any solid plans yet, obviously, but we talked about it.”

“That's great! I'm so happy for you!” She wandered around the apartment as she talked to him, putting on the kettle for a cup of coffee. While she was at it, she took a packet of crisps out of the cupboard. Nothing the most healthy brunch, but it would suffice. “When can we all meet up again?”

“Well, I'm free next weekend if you are. I'll check with Poe and Rose in the group chat.” He answered, and she felt the buzz from her phone that meant he'd sent the message. “And now we wait.”

In no time at all, there was a reply from Poe to say he was free on Saturday evening and all of Sunday. A couple of seconds later, a long string of hearts and exclamation marks confirmed that Rose was free whenever. 

“Okay, so what should we do? Picnic? Day around town?” She listed, trying to come up with a good suggestion. Anything where they'd be outside was fine by her, but she supposed she could settle for something indoors if she was bribed by coffee.

“Picnic sounds good. I'll let them know, we can all bring something along.” He typed out another text message to the group chat, and the two responded with excited messages. 

“I can't believe it's been half a year since we've all hung out together.” She mused, nostalgic.

“It's been that long?” He was shocked, as was she. “Oh my god… it was Christmas last time, wasn't it? How did that happen?”

“Yep. It happened because we're all suddenly very busy people, and even when we're not, there's always something that means we can't meet up without planning in advance. Except for this time; obviously a stroke of luck.” She stirred in a few spoons of sugar and a large splash of milk and took a long sip of coffee. 

“There's no such thing as luck,” He inputted.

“Sure there isn't.” She replied sarcastically, sitting on the kitchen counter top.

“Only hard work and determination.”

“You sound like a crappy motivational speaker. It doesn't even work in this context. We didn't work hard to all be free at the same time.” Rey pointed out, finding it kind of dumb. 

“Hey, I sound like a perfectly good motivational speaker!” He replied, mock offended. “People everywhere listen to my speeches and feel inspired to make beneficial changes to their lives!”

“That's such bullshit,” She laughed, shaking her head. Phone conversations with him always ended up feeling like face to face chats, which was actually quite nice. 

“It's the opposite of that.” He laughed a bit too, and her mood lifted by about 150 percent. 

“Keep lying to yourself, Finn.” She teased, leaning across the counter to put her empty mug into the sink. 

“Will do.”

They lapsed into a moment of silence that lasted about five seconds. She didn't really know what to say to him after not talking for so long. It was an oxymoron, surely after not talking for ages she would have more things to tell him about and thus conversation would be easier. However, the world works in strange ways, so she found herself struggling to summarise anything that had happened since they last spoke. 

“Anyway,” Finn said, breaking the silence. “Really sorry, but I've gotta go to my next class. Talk later, or if not see you next weekend?”

She'd forgotten that it was still the school day and therefore meant he was meant to be studying, and hoped she'd caught him in the changeover time and not made him late or anything that would get him into trouble. “Yeah, see you. Have fun in class.”

“Bye. ” He ended the call. 

Rey made her way to the lounge area and put her phone on the table before flopping down on the sofa. She was so tired from staying up to finish the essay but simultaneously wide awake from all of the caffeine she'd consumed. It was a deadly combination and meant that when sleep tugged at the corner of her eyes she couldn't just give in like she wanted to. Annoyed, she huffed and reached for the notepad and pen on the table, deciding to spend her time doodling until she could fall asleep. 

An hour or so later and three pages of rough sketches completed, she turned to a blank page and began to try and draw a portrait. She wasn't the best at drawing, certainly not Ben level, but she wasn't the worst either. It was something she enjoyed being mediocre at, as without the pressure to succeed with it from anyone but herself, it was very relaxing. 

She sketched the rough jawline, then erased it and tried again. It looked off still, so she redid it one last time. When at last satisfied, she began to work on the hair, long enough to cover the ears and almost reach the shoulders. Slightly wavy, dark and dynamic. Her passable drawing took her a lot of time, work, and resulted in a fair amount of frustration. It was so difficult to transfer their real-life appearance to the paper, and in the end, she gave up, promising to finish it another day. 

Comfortable and warm in the leather jacket that smelled subtly of sea salt, she spent the remainder of the evening curled up and reading, wondering when she'd next see Ben to thank him for the help.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life is still busy and I wish I had more time to write. Anyway, enjoy what I have managed to produce!
> 
> Thank you all for your kind comments and kudos!

The next time she saw Ben was at the library again, their usual haunt. He was hunched over a heavy book (as usual) and glaring down at it (also as usual). She sat down opposite him and held out her hand. He looked down at it, frowning.

“What?” He gave her a confused look, still grumpy from reading the book in front of him. It was entitled ‘A Brief History of Expressionism’ and to her looked anything but brief. 

“Just take it.” She sighed, wondering why he was being so weird about it. They were sort of friends, after all. 

He did as she said, looking unsure all the while. He clasped his hand around hers lightly, a ghost of a touch.

“Now breathe. You're stressed and glaring at inanimate objects again.” She reprimanded him and placed a takeaway cup of coffee on the table in front of him. She'd stopped off via the coffee shop they'd been in in a week or so ago, where they made their first steps towards friendship, and bought him a large black coffee as a thank you for helping with the essay.

“Stop mothering me.” He grumbled but took a deep breath and a sip of coffee all the same. Satisfied, she removed her hand from his grasp and leant back in her chair. He went back to reading the book and, distracted, she tipped the chair too much and toppled backwards. 

“Shit!” She grabbed onto the table for support and accidentally slammed her leg into the wood, half on half off her chair. 

He looked up, eyebrow raised. “What are you doing?”

“I fell off the bloody chair.” She breathed between clenched teeth, trying to distract herself from the pain shooting through her leg.

“Language,” He warned lightly, looking at something behind her. 

“Ha, coming from you! Like you don't swear every fucking sentence.” She snorted, spinning round to see what he was looking at. A young boy stood by one of the shelves, mouth open in shock and clutching a picture book tightly in his grubby little hands. “Oh!”

She looked to Ben for help, unsure what to say to undo the damage she'd caused by swearing very loudly in front of the child and assuming he often found himself in this situation. He gave a very unhelpful shrug in response.

“Uh, don't repeat that to your parents,” She told the boy before sitting down at the table and turning her back to him, embarrassed more than she cared to admit. She covered her face with her hands. “Ugh, why me?”

“Karma?” Ben suggested, watching as she examined her leg which was already bruising.

“Oh, shut it.” She winced as she smoothed the skirts of her skater dress and tried to stretch it out. “Damn, that hurts.”

She carefully avoided swearing in case there were any more small children around them. He laughed under his breath and went back to his book, taking notes and putting earphones in. Feeling ignored, she tapped a rhythm on the table with one of his spare pens in an attempt to entertain herself. She hadn't come with any work today, in fact, all of the time she'd been spending here meant that she was now ahead in all of her courses. For one of the first times in her life, she had no work at all that she needed doing. 

However, she still came to the library as often as she could, even if not to revise or do essays. Though she wouldn't admit it, the guy currently ignoring her presence from across the table was part of the reason she spent the majority of her time here. 

“Can you stop that?” He snapped, pausing his music and fixing his book glare on her. “It's distracting.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved her hand in casual dismissal. “Just get back to work and stop complaining.”

She resulted to very light tapping which, after a few minutes, just seemed to make him more annoyed. He looked up at her, taking a deep breath and trying to keep his patience.

“Stop it.” He hissed, reaching over to snatch the pen. Before he could, she moved it out of his reach, smiling. Agitating him was proving rather entertaining, more so than she'd expected. 

She didn't tap again for a few minutes, hoping to lull him into a false sense of security before tapping as lightly as she could. He didn't notice for a few minutes, but then the movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and shut the book with a slam. She jumped slightly but kept the beat going.

“Rey, I'm warning you. Stop it.” He closed his eyes, hoping for patience.

She held back laughter and carried on, making the taps feather light so it could only just be heard. “Or what?”

“Or I'll push you off that chair.” He fixed her with a glare that made her urge to laugh increase tenfold. Somehow, she managed to suppress it.

“You wouldn't.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Ben was an asshole, but shoving her off of chairs when she'd just fallen off one didn't seem his style.

“Go ahead, try it.” He challenged, closing his notebook and watching the movement of her pen intently.

She tried it, sweetly smiling at him as she did so.

He snatched the pen from her and reached across the table to shove her chair back. She yelped and grabbed tightly onto his arms to stop herself falling, trying to regain her balance. The last thing she wanted was to end up on the floor with even more bruises. He tried to shake her off, but she was holding on too tightly for him to do so. However, she did loosen her grip fractionally and tried to shove him back. Caught off guard, his chair half slipped under him. He also scrambled for balance, but failed, falling backwards. Rey hastily let go, not wanting to have her face slammed into the table. He hit the floor with a thud and a groan.

“Nice one,” She gave up trying to hold back her laughter, breathless. “Another happy landing,”

“Piss off.” He said from the floor, which made her laugh even harder. Clutching her sides, she rested her forehead on the table and ended up silently shaking. “You're awful.”

After a few minutes, when she'd managed to control most of her laughter, she walked round to his side of the table and offered him a hand up. “Want some help?”

“Not really, but since you're offering.” He took her hand and pulled himself up, swearing as he straightened out his legs. “Thanks.”

She was so caught off guard from him thanking her that she almost forgot to let go of his hand. “Did you just…?”

“Did I just what?” He righted his chair and sat back down on it. 

“Did you just thank me?” She asked, a smile gracing the corner of her mouth.

“Don't get used to it.” He replied flatly, opening his book and going back to work. “It slipped out.”

“Right. I won't.” She sighed. What made him think that good manners cost so much, she didn't know. They'd certainly never killed anyone, and generally being polite makes people more likeable. Not bothered enough to properly figure out the conundrum that was Ben, she took her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through her social media for a bit. Pictures of Rose and Finn doing an awkward thumbs up pose in front of the fountain in the town square made her smile, and the one of a panicked Rose saving Finn from falling back into the water made her laugh quietly. She made sure she wasn't disturbing Ben too much while he was working, knowing how grouchy he got.

She couldn't wait to see Finn and Poe and Rose again at the weekend, and smiled like an idiot at the thought of it. 

“Hey, Ben.” She touched his arm lightly to get his attention. He looked up slowly. Steeling herself so she wouldn't lose her nerve, she asked in a rushed tone: “Are you free this weekend?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Why, going to try and convince me into another heart to heart coffee shop visit?” The way he spoke made it clear he wasn't very open to any ideas she had. 

“No,” She shook her head, although a coffee shop visit was actually a pretty neat idea. “I wondered if you wanted to come on a picnic. With some of my friends.”

“Why would I want to do that?” He gave her his signature raised eyebrow look, messy hair covering his eyes slightly.

“I don't know, because you like me?” She shrugged, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. “And we study together?”

“And that means I want to interact with you in any other place how?”

“Stop being difficult and just say you want to come.” She rolled her eyes, why he wouldn't just take the olive branch went way over her head. 

“I'm indifferent about it.” He responded without a hint of emotion in his tone. It was irksome; she just wanted to be nice to him and he was making it hard again. 

“That's a yes, then.” Triumphantly, she scribbled down the location and time of the plans and handed it to him. “Here. Oh, one second.”

She took the piece of paper back and wrote down her phone number and social media username. In case he wanted to talk to her about the picnic and definitely not taking advantage of the situation to make him admit they were friends now. 

“There. Now you can contact me if plans change.” She smiled, sliding it back over. 

“Am I allowed to just burn this to eliminate as many forms of contact with you as I can?” He asked, holding the paper by the corner as if it was dangerous or toxic. 

“No.” She gave him a warning look. “Because that's mean.”

“Haven't you noticed that's just who I am by now?” He replied distractedly, concentrating more on the book than her. Used to this sort of treatment, and knowing that nothing would ever come between him and his love for books, she just sighed. 

“It's how you choose to present yourself, not you.”

“You think there's a difference?” He snorted, turning the page. His book reading glare was back and he rested his feet on the seat next to him, getting comfortable.

“I know there's a difference and I've seen it for myself.” She replied pointedly, kicking him lightly under the table. 

“Sure you have, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. Something about the nickname made her feel flustered, though she didn't know why.

“Don't call me that. It's weird coming from you.” She cringed, awkwardly playing with her hair as a distraction. “You're meant to be insulting me. That's the dynamic way heave going. I can't deal with you actually being nice.”

“What, ‘Sweetheart’ annoys you?” He asked with an amused smile, which immediately set off alarm bells in her head. Nothing good would come of this situation, she was sure of it.

“Yes, very much so.” She replied tentatively. “So please don't,”

“Then sweetheart it is, sweetheart. Hope you like the new nickname.” He said matter of factly, leaning back in his seat with his arms behind his head and legs crossed casually.

“Oh, please no.” She let her hair fall in front of her face like a curtain, shielding her expression from him. It was just awkward hearing it when they spent most of their time annoying each other and were only just becoming friends. She'd have no problem with it from anyone else, though, so perhaps it was just him that made it strange to her. Life was confusing, and she didn't like it. 

“Complain all you want but it's not going to change a thing, sweetheart.” He took his phone out of his pocket and created a new contact, typing in her phone number and titling it ‘Sweetheart’ in inverted commas along with some strange emojis, including one on the verge of sickness. 

“If someone looks through your phone they'll be very confused.” She commented as the flash went off and blinded her. Ben saved the rather unflattering photo as her profile picture and she sighed inwardly.

“No one looks through my phone. Its password protected.” He said slowly, distracted by typing more stuff in the notes section that was probably rude.

“You are aware that people, like, hack into phones all the time aren't you?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “And you don't seem like the type of guy to have a very strong password. I bet it's your birthday.”

“Incorrect. It's much more secure than that. And what do you mean, not the type of guy? I take my privacy very seriously.” He saved the profile and she cringed when she saw it. 

“So what is it then?” She asked, watching him type over his shoulder. Annoyed, he swatted her with his hand.

“Why the fuck would I tell you?” He scowled at her and she raised her hands in mock surrender.

“Because we're friends?” She suggested. 

“Nice try, but we're not friends.” He put his phone back in his pocket, scowl still on his face. “I don't have friends. They're pointless and annoying and you have to remember their birthdays and pretend to be nice to them.”

“Ouch. I'm mortally wounded.” She replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “You're just too stubborn to admit that you kind of like my company so try to hide it by being as mean as possible and complaining about how difficult you find maintaining relationships with people.”

“Sure, sweetheart.” He dismissed, giving her a patronising pat on the cheek. She frowned at him. “Keep dreaming.”

With that, he packed up all of his work and left abruptly, leaving Rey wondering what exactly her life had come to.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whey it's the one month anniversary of this fic! Enjoy an extra long chapter as thanks and celebration for all of you who read my writing xx

The most surprising thing was the fact that Ben hadn't canceled. The second also surprising thing was that he was already waiting for her at the park she'd told him they were having the picnic, holding a hamper basket full of freshly baked bread. She carried a couple bottles of lemonade and a picnic blanket, and awkwardly juggled them to wave to him from across the road. 

The summer breeze was light and pleasant, carrying the melodic sound of the birds in the air. It ruffled the skirts of her dress and she held it down as she crossed the road, holding up a hand to thank the driver who had stopped to let her cross. Sunglasses on and feeling pretty cool, she was the happiest she'd been in a long time. The excitement of seeing Poe, Finn, and Rose again was overwhelming, and the beautiful weather was a bonus.

The sun warmed her bare arms and she pushed her shades up to rest on the top of her head, holding some of her loose hair back as she approached Ben. Dressed in all black: black shirt, black ripped jeans, and black jacket, he looked up from the book he was reading and tucked it away into his bag.

“Wow,” Was the first thing she said when he handed her the hamper. She set down the bottles of lemonade and laid out the picnic rug, sitting down on it and opening the hamper to look inside. A variety of bread, some sweet, some savory, all wrapped in a gingham tea towel. “This looks really good,”

“My mother insisted on making them. Wouldn't take no for an answer.” He sat down by her, leaning against the tree stump to stay in the shade he had been lurking in. 

“That's sweet of her.” She opened the cap on one of the glass bottles and set down two plastic cups on the rug, pouring out a glass each. “Lemonade?”

He nodded and she passed him the cup which was most full. He took a long sip, gazing around the park. She did the same, content with the silence. 

Small children hung off climbing frames. Teenagers hung by overgrown bushes, hoods up and most likely stolen bottles of beer and lit cigarettes in hand. All was normal, and it was a nice reassurance that no matter how weird her life got, everyone else's would remain the same. She followed the pattern of a brightly coloured kite soaring through the sky for a few minutes, put her sunglasses over her eyes then closed them, letting the sounds of laughter, general conversation, and the gentle breeze wash over her. 

She felt a light nudge in the side, and slowly turned her head to where she'd felt it coming from. She opened her eyes to see it had been Ben, not much to her surprise. 

“Don't fall asleep.” He said, looking ahead rather than at her when speaking. She was used to it now, it was just one of the weird quirks that made him, well, him. 

“I wasn't planning on it.” She stretched out languorously, basking in the feeling of the midsummer sun on her legs. 

“Good, because I don't know your friends and it would be even more uncomfortable if you were having a nap when they showed up.” He looked strangely out of place in the warm environment, as he was all harsh edges and bitter cold. However, she thought, he somehow made it work.

She smiled a little, finding the idea humorous. “That's true. But at least you've met one of them before, Rose. She’s the one--”

“Who I met at the restaurant, yes.” He finished her sentence for her, setting the cup down by his side. “And Finn and Poe are the ones who are dating and your other best friends. Finn you've known for five years, Poe for two, and Rose for almost one. 

She lifted her sunglasses, surprised.

“Oh, don't look so shocked. You told me plenty of times, firstly via text and secondly during the phone call in which you convinced me to come.” He listed, looking bored. “And then again when you called me at 4am to ask me about Cicero.”

“I'm just surprised you actually listened.” She shrugged, cheeks tinged a light pink. Turning her head slightly so it wasn't as noticeable, she took another sip of lemonade.

“I didn't want to, it was drilled into me so many times it's impossible to forget.” He glanced down at his watch, and she noticed it was no longer the shiny, well kept one she'd seen when they'd first met. It was dirty, scratched, and there was even a crack running around the circumference. Whatever had made that happen, she didn't know. Had he dropped it? Left it on his desk and accidentally spilt something on it? Or had he broken it purposefully?

He caught her examining the watch. “I thought you said we were all meeting at noon. It's quarter past now.”

“Yeah, Poe doesn't really do punctuality. He'll probably be here in ten minutes though.” She checked her phone to see if he'd texted her, but saw no notification. “Until then, we've got a whole bottle of lemonade to ourselves.”

“Did you not bring anything stronger? No lager?” He picked up a bottle and read the label, disappointed at the lack of alcohol listed in the ingredients.

She shook her head. 

“That's a classic picnic beverage! Honestly, you're so uncultured.” He sighed. She wondered at what point they had moved past their harsh scathing remarks and jabs at each other to this: a light, teasing, kind response. It pleased her, further proof that they were making some advances on the whole friendship front.

“I don't care if it's classic, it's way too early to be drinking alcohol. I'm not going to deal with a tipsy Rose on a swing again. We can save drinking for another time when we're not in a public park at midday.” She rolled her eyes, holding out her glass for him to refill it with the lemonade.

“You're no fun.” He set the bottle down once he'd poured it for her, and elbowed her in the side.

“I'm lots of fun!” She replied indignantly, shuffling away from his side to avoid him nudging her again. 

“Sure, sweetheart.” He fixed her with a look that was the epitome of sarcasm, so convincingly patronising that it made her suppress laughter.

“I told you not to call me that, Ben.” She reminded him, although she didn't really mind anymore in actuality. It was sort of endearing at times, and from all their text conversations and phone call arguments she'd grown used to it.

“What are you gonna do about it?” He challenged. 

“Physically fight you?” She suggested jokingly, a small smile curving her lips. 

“I'd like to see you try.” He grinned, actually grinned, at her in response, and it surprised her so much that a startled laugh came out of her mouth. “What?”

“You're grinning at me! You're actually smiling!” She said with childlike glee, sure she had to be dreaming. 

“What, am I not allowed to be happy?” He grumbled, grin falling to a soft, half smile instead. Slightly saddened by the loss of it, she sighed. 

“Of course you are. It's just you've never looked so happy around me before.” She took off her sunglasses and fiddled with them, trying to clean the lenses with the hem of her dress.

“Maybe there's a reason for that.” He handed her a cleaning cloth and she took it, half snatching.

“Oh, piss off. I'm not that bad.” She chucked the cloth at him once she'd finished cleaning them; it hit him square in the face.

“The evidence suggests otherwise.” He said grumpily from around the cloth. She laughed and leant against the tree trunk next to him.

They talked for a while longer about whether or not Ben was a “Tortured artist” as she had called him, mirth lighting up her eyes and causing him to kick her in the leg. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that he just didn't enjoy being nice and didn't know how to handle other people showing any sort of politeness to him, which he said was “at least half accurate” and resulted in another bout of laughter. 

While she was doubled over and laughing so hard she was crying, she felt a nudge in the side from Ben. Wiping away the tears and trying to regain her composure as best as she could, she looked up to see her oldest and best friend.

“Finn!” She exclaimed happily, and scrambled up to her feet to meet him halfway for a tight hug which she made last. “It's been forever!”

Finn grinned at her and held up a plastic bag full of food. “Take this as an apology for my busy schedule.”

She set it down on the rug, giddy with happiness to be seeing him properly for the first time since Christmas. Sure, they'd texted and video called, but that was nothing in comparison to being able to see him in person. “It's good to properly see you.”

“Good to see you too, Rey.” He walked over to the picnic rug and gave her a look. Ben gave her a similar look and it took her a moment to realise what it meant. 

“Oh! Finn, this is Ben. And Ben, this is Finn.” She introduced them. Finn held out a hand towards Ben who just stared at it. Awkwardly, Finn dropped it back to his side. The atmosphere was awkward, so she hurriedly moved on. “Um, want lemonade?”

“Please, I'm parched. Do you know how awful the walk here was in the direct sunshine?” Finn sat down next to her and held his cup for her to pour the drink. “I felt like I was trekking through a desert.”

“It is quite warm, but I like it.” She shrugged, leaning back into the shade. “Ben's wearing all black though, so it must be even worse.”

“The sacrifices I make for fashion.” He joked dully. She laughed nervously, sensing the atmosphere becoming more awkward with every passing second. For the first time, she wondered if this had been a good idea. It certainly wasn't one of her best ones, she knew that much since she'd asked Ben to come with her, but she hadn't quite predicted how dry the conversation would be. Off the top of her head, Ben and Finn had nothing in common. That fact made it very difficult to orchestrate a conversation, so just opened one of the fruit tubs Finn had brought and passed it round. 

“I'll pass. I'm allergic to strawberries.” Ben said as she passed him the container. Her heart dropped, as did her previously optimistic view on how this picnic would go. However, she held onto a little hope as she gave the strawberries to Finn. 

“Oh, I didn't know. I'm not allergic to anything. Are you, Finn?” She asked, trying to kick-start a conversation. She popped a piece of melon in her mouth and awaited his response. 

“I'm allergic to nuts.” He shrugged, taking a handful of berries. “But that's really common. So not very interesting.”

“Yeah…” Rey trailed off, fiddling with the ends of her hair, a nervous habit. Sort of like how Ben tapped incessantly when he was in an awkward situation (as he was then), she ran her fingers through the knots and tried to tease them out gently. 

Silence lapped, broken only by the rustle of packaging as Finn took more food. It was oppressive and she wasn't sure how much longer she could last before she self combusted or just fell asleep. She shot Ben a pleading look, hoping he could start conversation, but he was too busy staring into the distance to notice she was trying to subtly signal to him. Downtrodden, she gave up and rested her head against the tree trunk, looking up at the leaves and the way the sunlight leaked through.

“Hey, Rey, Finn. Oh, and Ben!” She was startled out of it by Rose's voice. Her friend stood in front of them with cocktail sausages and other snacks in hand, dressed in shorts and a plain white shirt, paired with a gold laurel wreath inspired headband. “I didn't realise you were coming.”

“Neither did I, until Rey bribed me by saying she'd buy me coffee for a week.” He replied candidly, taking out earphones she hadn't even noticed he'd put in. She groaned inwardly.

“Ben!” She swatted him lightly. He was not supposed to share that information with her friends, especially when she was trying to introduce them all. This was not going according to plan

“She bribed you?” Rose laughed, flopping down next to Finn. He handed her the strawberries. “Wow, and you accepted?”

“Well, I'm here, aren't I?” Ben responded, taking out a bread roll from his hamper basket and taking a glum bite. He seemed to be enjoying himself as much as Rey had feared; not at all. 

“Good point.” Rose mused, and leant over to take one of the rolls. Ben pushed the hamper in her general direction, helping, but not much. 

“Does anyone know where Poe is?” Finn was scrolling through his phone to no text messages. “I don't know where he's got to or when he's gonna be here.”

“Well,” Rey checked the time on her phone. “It's half past twelve now.”

“Which means he's half an hour late.” Ben pointed out, not very helpfully. He'd cracked open another bottle of lemonade and was drinking around his fourth glass. Not that she could blame him, it did taste really good, and pretending to drink seemed to have given the awkward silences purpose. 

“He probably got lost.” Rose said, offhand. She didn't seem to mind too much, content to just sit in the sun and eat food. “He'll make his way here eventually.”

Rey and Finn nodded in agreement, and the conversation went back to being awkward and stiff, almost mechanical.

“So, um,” Rey floundered for something to say. Ben looked up at her, dark eyes meeting hers. It made her chest do something funny momentarily which she dismissed. “This is awkward.”

“Wow, nice one. Now it's even more awkward, Rey.” Ben said slightly scornfully. She was pretty sure he was joking, but her friends looked a lot less relaxed after that.

“Well if you have any suggestions to make it less so, I'm all ears.” She shot him a warning look and ate a piece of bread, tearing into it to take out her frustration at how badly this picnic was going already.

“You could stop talking.” He replied, taking a swig of lemonade. “Do us all a favour.”

Rose and Finn looked horrified by his words to say the least. Rose opened her mouth, an angry expression on her face, but no words came out.

“Ben,” Finn begun, and to Rey’s panic she realised he was going to start being defensive over her. “Don't say shit like that to her. It's not fair, she's just trying to make sure everyone has a good time.”

“Finn,” She cut in hurriedly, “We're just messing about. He didn't mean it.”

“Didn't I?” He raised an eyebrow at her, appraising. 

“No, you didn't.” She said firmly, trying to tell him without saying outright that her friends didn't have the same dynamic with her that they had, and would assume he was actually verbally attacking her instead of having banter. “Guys, it's fine. We tease each other loads. It's all good natured.”

Finn didn't look wholly convinced but let it slide. Rose just shrugged and went back to demolishing the fruit. 

What was the real kicker was the fact it had all started so well. She and Ben would have been fine if it was just a picnic between the two if them, and it would also be fine if it had just been her, Rose, Finn, and Poe as originally intended. But her luck was awful and it seemed that introducing Ben to her friends was one if the worst ideas she'd ever had. 

They were polar opposites since the beginning, and no doubt Finn and Rose thought his sullen attitude and general rudeness was having a negative effect on her. Sure, sometimes he was so frustratingly cold and distant that it made her want to scream, and once or twice she'd said stuff once provoked by him that she regretted, but that was just life. She had a new friend; she had to deal with the… situations that came along with that. 

“Anyway, I think that's Poe.” She waved to him and he jogged over. As he came closer, she could see that he'd had a haircut since they'd last seen each other. “It is!”

She all but tackled him with a hug as he reached the picnic rug. He laughed and hugged her back.

“Wow, that's the most terrifying hug I've ever received. You just barreled at me. I feared for my life.” Poe joked, and they did a small handshake they'd come up with at Christmas. Upon doing it perfectly, he grinned. “Yes, you remembered it!”

“Of course I remembered it.” She smiled wisely, and for a moment it was as if the whole awkward picnic conversation thing was just a dream because she was so happy to be around her friends in that moment. “Anyway, sit down!”

The group all sat on the picnic rug in a small, awkward silence. Food lay in the centre, and Rey anxiously nibbled a breadstick to try and distract herself.

“So, Ben.” To her surprise it was Poe who had tried to initiate conversation. She gave him a grateful look, which faded quickly as he continued speaking. “How did you and Rey meet? How long have you been friends?”

She wished that she could just disappear with Ben in that moment and never have to talk about it again. 

“Well, we met in the library. Studied together. Don't really like each other that much. She's a bit of an annoyance to say the least.” Ben didn't look up from his phone, and spoke without much emotion. She caught Poe giving Finn a look and wanted to cry. It was all going so wrong. So awfully, inevitably wrong. Ben hadn't wanted to come and she'd dragged him along, and now this was happening.

“He's joking about finding me annoying.” She felt the need to clarify that point for his safety, considering the murderous looks he was receiving. “And we do like each other.”

“Sure.” Poe didn't sound convinced at all. He ate a sandwich and offered them to Finn and Rose. They took one and ate in silence.

“Ben,” She whispered, trying to talk to him as surreptitiously as possible. Pretending to look around the park, she used the movement to add. “Please be nice. I need you all to get along.”

“They clearly don't like me. I don't see why I should bother, since they're not.”

“That's unfair.” She said lowly, trying to keep her annoyance at bay. “And you know it.”

“No, Rey, I don't know.” He caught her gaze, eyes so fierce that she had to glance away before bringing herself to meet them again. His voice wasn't a whisper anymore, and she really hoped the others weren't listening in. “I don't know why you dragged me along when clearly your friends dislike me and disapprove of me. Have you been paying attention to the looks they've been giving me?”

Shocked, she placed a hand on his shoulder because she was unsure what else to do. He shrugged it off bitterly and stood up. “I'm going. Have fun with your picnic.”

Her chest constricted at his tone and she found herself torn between her friends who were more than bewildered and Ben, who had stalked off before she had a chance to even reply. Making a split second decision, she left her bag on the picnic rug and chased after him. 

“Ben! Ben, wait!” She hurried after him as he weaved through crowds of people, making it harder and harder for her to follow. Cursing under her breath, she plowed through the mass of people with the occasional “Sorry!” and “Excuse me!”

She managed to catch up with him when he reached a crossing and couldn't go any further due to the all the traffic. She touched his arm lightly to get his attention, expression sad. This whole event had been complete shit. Her friends were judging her, Ben was being extra snappy, they didn't even like each other, and oh god what had her life come to?

“Please don't leave.” She said softly and to her own surprise felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “I just…”

He reached out tentatively, wiping away a tear from her cheek with gentleness she didn't know he possessed. She froze at the contact; her breathing hitched. It was such an opposition to the actions she had come to expect from him that she found herself even more confused and distraught, a fresh tear slipping down her face. 

“I just wanted to do something fun with all my friends. But looks like I can't even do that right anymore.” She wasn't sure where this wallowing sadness was coming from, so deep it seemed to swallow her up whole and submerge her underwater. She laughed weakly, turning her face so she didn't have to look at him, knowing he was probably judging her. “God, I'm a wreck.”

He didn't say anything, instead gingerly put his arms around her, gently pulling her close to him. He held her like she was a china doll, fragile and delicate, as though she could break at any moment. No one had ever held her like that before. Another few tears trickled their way down despite her trying to hold them back. 

He held her until the tears ceased to flow, the sun shining down on them. Despite the fact that her life seemed to be falling apart, in that moment with his arms around her, Rey felt like one small thing was right. And that was enough.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time, no update.
> 
> Would have finished this earlier but I had a busy weekend. However I have a two week holiday soon so expect more frequent updates :)
> 
> Thanks again for the lovely comments and kudos

Rey had been lying low since her breakdown in front of Ben after the disaster that was the picnic, an event that she now internally referred to as the Incident. She'd avoided texting him, going to the library, and even ignored her friends when they tried to reach out to her to apologise, in too much of a depressed state to deal with any of them. 

However, that had to change today. It had been one long awful week since those events and she was starting to get bored of spending her days staring at the ceiling, wondering how she went this wrong. Her work was starting to pile up and she really needed to go to the library or else she wouldn't meet any of the deadlines set. 

With a heavy heart, she forced herself off her sofa and put the bowl of half eaten instant noodles in the sink to wash up later. She made herself walk in the direction of her room, towards her wardrobe, and rifled through the clothes. If she didn't feel great, she supposed she could make up for that fact by looking great. She grabbed a chiffon blouse and a pair of loose, flowy trousers and carried them to her bathroom along with her bag of makeup she reserved for special occasions or particularly bad spots. 

Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, seeing her messy bun, dark circles, and crumpled sweater gave her a sad sense of humour. She shrugged out of her sweats and turned on the shower, cranking the temperature up almost scathingly hot. She spent a few minutes trying to detangle the hair tie from her hair and when she finally managed it, threw the hair tie down rather aggressively, which satisfied her slightly.

She decided to go the whole way with the self care thing, putting music on so loud it echoed throughout her apartment and finding her only non brand name shower gel and shampoo to take into the shower with her. It had been a while since she'd had a shower like this and she rediscovered how therapeutic it actually was to stand under the flow of water and sing along to the music at the top of her lungs with no one around to judge her. 

She spent a good twenty minutes in there, washing her hair properly and letting the conditioner soak through, shaving her legs, and using a body scrub all over. In short, she felt like a new person when she emerged, wrapping a towel around her and then searching through her drawers for a face mask. She was sure Rose had got her one for her birthday and she'd saved it for an emergency. Soon, she dug it out from under the stacks of toilet roll and took it out of the packaging, placing the sheet over her face. She set a fifteen minute timer on her phone and started to brush through her hair. It surprisingly made her feel a lot better. 

Once the timer went off, she put the sheet mask into the bin and got out her hair dryer, spending a few minutes in front of the mirror, frowning in concentration. After that was done, she put on her clothes and tied her hair up in a variation of her usual half up half down hairstyle, then took out her makeup brushes and got to work. 

By the time she was finished, she looked like a much more elegant and put together version of herself, and not like someone who had numerous breakdowns earlier that week. It instilled a small shred of confidence in her. She grabbed her bag filled with her notes and assignments and made her way down to the library. 

It was a pleasant enough walk, as pleasant as walking towards most likely impending doom can be. Rey tried to focus on the positives. To begin, this was the first time she'd been outside in a week and that was an achievement. Next, it was summer so therefore she had to be happy as it was the best season. Finally, well… She ran out of ideas as she pushed open the library door. 

Leia looked up from her desk and smiled warmly, which made Rey’s heart swell. “Hello. Where have you been? We were starting to get worried about you.”

It was a relatively new concept, having someone care about her in such a motherly way, and she found she liked it quite a lot.

“Oh, I was at home. Bad week, you know what it's like.” She said airy, waving a dismissive hand.

“You look very lovely for someone who's had a bad week, dear.” Seeming to accept the fact Rey didn't want to talk about it, she changed tactic.

“Trying to at least look my best even if I don't feel it,” She responded, shrugging. “Self care, et cetera. But thank you, that's kind of you to say.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Leia dug around under her desk and then produced a small card, elegantly decorated with swirling gold calligraphy. She handed it to Rey who took it and turned it over curiously. “There's a charity event being held to raise funds for the library. Due to the rise of the Internet and information being at everyone's fingertips, well … we need support to stay open longer.”

“‘A charity ball’?” She read from the back. “That sounds awfully fancy.”

“It's just a bit of fun. I was hoping you'd like to come and help out, or even enjoy it and relax.” 

“Well, I think I'm free. I'll be there.” She pocketed the invite and began to mentally plan her outfit. 

“Good.” The librarian went back to her computer, presumably checking which books were currently out or were overdue. “I'll see you then, Rey.”

Feeling better, she smiled goodbye and sat at her and Ben's table. Laughing under her breath at the flowers etched onto the table from when they'd first met, she was hit by a strange wave of nostalgia. A month or so had passed since that first meeting, the meeting that had changed her life in simultaneously the best and worst way possible. She was glad she hadn't been told off for vandalism yet. She was also glad she hadn't seen Ben yet, as she was still embarrassed about the events of the Incident and didn't know what she'd do if he did show up, except for maybe starting to cry again. Which wouldn't be good for either of them. 

She took out all of her work and let out a long sigh. Taking a week to wallow in her sadness was the worst idea. She decided she should just stop internally complaining and get to it, and so she did. 

By the inevitable time she looked up to yawn and stretch and saw Ben walking over with his sketchbook in hand, wearing all black as usual, she was ready to curl up and hide. However he'd clearly already spotted her, so trying to do that was pointless. Seeing him in person for the first time in a week after the Incident sent a confusing mix of emotions to her head and heart simultaneously. On the one hand, she did enjoy his company and value their odd version of friendship. On the other, this was bound to be the most awkward moment of her life. 

He sat down opposite her, earbuds in and giving her a small nod to acknowledge her presence. Apart from that, he didn't do anything else, content to ignore her for his art and music. She watched curiously as he opened his sketchbook, turning to the most recent page and carefully setting out his pencils in a particular order. She couldn't quite tell who the drawing was of yet, as it was only just the outline of the face and the hair at that moment. It reminded her of her attempt at drawing him a couple weeks back, trying to capture his rough jawline with the stokes of a soft pencil on cream paper. A funny feeling touched her fingertips, like the light pricking with a drawing pin. It was confusing and didn't make sense, so she elected to ignore it. 

“Who are you drawing?” Rey found herself asking, curiosity overwhelming common sense and her pact with herself to avoid interaction with him for as long as possible.

“You're all dressed up.” He replied, sidestepping the question with practiced skill. This annoyed her slightly; he seemed to have a knack for avoiding anything remotely personal she enquired about.

“How observant of you to notice.” She bit back a more sarcastic retort, though it took some effort. She felt his sweeping gaze as he took in her appearance with more interest.

“You look nice.” He said, offhand.

The compliment surprised her. She opened her mouth, then shut it again. A faint blush crept its way up her cheeks and she hoped that the makeup she'd put on would mask it, at least partially. Glancing away and tucking her hair behind her ears, she deftly dodged the eye contact he seemed to be trying to establish. 

“Was that a compliment, Ben?” She looked back at him when she'd regained her composure, a small smile on her lips. 

“Depends if you want it to be or not.” He kept his attention on her, waiting for her reaction. Hurriedly trying to come up with a normal response, she felt like a test subject being scrutinised under his gaze. She shifted slightly in her seat. 

“Depends if you intended it as a compliment or not.” She nudged him under the table with her foot, deciding that the best course of action was to pretend the Incident hadn't happened.

“Then you know the answer.” He rolled his eyes, searching for an eraser on the desk. She handed him one and their fingers brushed lightly.

“Do I really? You're awfully good at being cryptic.” Her breathing was strangely shallow and she decided it was an after effect of the lack of sleep she'd had that week.

“It was a compliment.”

It felt like standing at the edge of a tall building and leaning against the railing, looking down at the sprawling city below with adrenaline pumping through her veins. She wanted nothing more than to lean over just a little bit further, to feel the roar of danger surrounding her on every side. His dark eyes met hers again. She tried to control the strange thrill that had hold over her.

“I didn't think you were capable of being nice.” She said with a forced neutral tone.

“Oh, I'm not. It's a side effect of my illness.”

“What illness?” She frowned, concerned for him. He certainly didn't look ill, which just confused her. 

“It's strange. I'm being plagued by this awful headache that comes and goes and sometimes asks me lots of annoying questions that are none of her business but I feel bad for her so she sticks around.” He shrugged. “It's pretty incredible, actually.”

“That's mean!” She exclaimed in offence. She certainly didn't want to be annoying, and she thought that they'd been doing pretty well in the friendship department.

“See, there you go, you said it yourself. I'm not nice, I'm mean.” He went back to his work then, turning up the volume on his music. It was so loud that she could clearly hear it. 

“And as I've said many times, you just pretend to be mean.” She leant over the table and took out one of his earbuds. He gave her a questioning look. Trying to be bold and follow through, she put it in her ear. 

“What are you doing?” He scowled, pausing the song. She gave a disappointed tut.

“Listening to music. Obviously.” She grinned at him. He sighed and relaxed slightly. 

“You're the worst. You know that?” He said it without a hint of malice, which sent a small spark of joy through her.

“Yeah, yeah. You love me really.” She waved a hand airily.

“Sure.” He raised an eyebrow, tone deeply sarcastic. “Keep lying to yourself, Rey.”

“Oh, I will.” She pressed play on his phone and rested her chin on her hand, pensively looking into the distance as she listened to the song. She tapped along to the beat on the table with her pen. To her surprise, he joined in too, improvising over it. He was full of surprises today, and perhaps it was shat which have her the courage to speak what had been at the back of her mind for the last week.

“Ben, i'm sorry for kind of breaking down after the picnic and making you have to deal with me crying and shit. I know that stuff makes you uncomfortable so…” She trailed off, losing her confidence with every word that came out of her mouth. Her volume trailed off too, so much so that her last words were barely above a whisper. “And I know it must have been really awkward and annoying for you to have to drop me off by my apartment. So sorry. Again.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” He scoffed, pausing the tapping on the table.

“Sorry?” She replied, thoroughly confused.

“Stop apologising. It's annoying.” He went back to his tapping and humming along to the music.

“Oh. Sorr--” She cut herself off at his stern look. 

“Listen. You had a bad day. We all do. That's natural. You needed someone to pretend to be there for you so I filled in that role. Stop making it weird.”

“I don't know what to say to that.” At a loss for words from his half act of kindness, she smoothed out a crease in her trousers to avoid looking directly at him.

“Then don't say anything at all.” He didn't say it in a harsh way, more knowing that was what would be best in the situation. 

They listened to the music for a bit, together, until it reached the end of his playlist. 

“Did you know there's a charity ball thing going on to raise funds for the library?” She asked out loud, wondering if she'd be able to bring him as her plus one. 

“Yep. My mother is forcing me to go.” He didn't look happy at the prospect, and Rey sighed. She guessed the plus one decision had been made for her. 

“I've been invited too. So I guess I'll see you there?”

“Guess you will. It's formal dress, by the way. I think it didn't specify on the invites. So cocktail dress for you, sweetheart.”

She frowned, this was an issue. “I don't think I own any formal clothes. What would work?”

“Well, I'll text you a picture of my suit later and when you go shopping you can get something that would match.” He suggested. 

“That would actually be really helpful.” Surprised, she gave him a thankful smile.

“I know, that's why I suggested it.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Ben?” She joked. He kicked her under the table. 

“Piss off.” 

“Never.”

“You're insufferable.”

“Aww, love you too.” She blew him a joking kiss.

“Ew, affection.” He shuddered which made her laugh more. “I don't want to catch your strange happiness disease.”

“I'm sure you're actually a very sweet person deep down. But keep pretending to be an edgy tortured artist.” She teased him, messing up his array of pencils.

“Believe me, I'm not sweet nor pretending. I'm the opposite.”

Somehow, that intrigued her even more.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GUYS

“So what is this? Some kind of date thing?” Rose asked, rifling through a rack of long, posh dresses. Rey had come with her to try and find a dress for the charity event as her friend had a lot better sense of fashion than her, and was now considering whether or not she regretted it.

“It's not a date.” She replied firmly, feeling the soft silk like fabric of one of the dresses and examining the detailing so as to avoid eye contact. “I wouldn't want it to be, anyway.”

“Really? Because this sounds awfully like a date type of thing.” Rose held up a crimson red, shoulderless dress and examined it. “You know matching with someone is basically a deceleration of your undying love for them, don't you?”

She let out a long sigh. She wasn't an expert in etiquette, and she doubted Ben was either, so the probability of him accidentally sort of asking her out inadvertently was high. She voiced this thought to Rose, adding the dress to the pile in her hands. “He didn't mean in that way. We're barely friends,”

“Sure. That's why you spend all your time either: spending time with him, talking about him, texting him, or pining after him.”

“I do not pine!” She replied, offended. After catching Rose's look, she quickly added: “And none of the other stuff either. And even if I did it wouldn't matter because we don't like each other. We don't! Have you seen our interactions? You were there at the picnic, you were there at the cafe, you've heard about everything. You've heard, okay, so don't give it all the… the…Okay, so maybe I do kind of want him to have intentionally asked me to match with him. Maybe I do like him, as a friend, and maybe I wouldn't be so upset if he said he wanted to be friends too. But that's not because I have, or ever will have, feelings in a romantic sense for him. It just won't happen. So you can stop.”

Rose stared at her, open-mouthed. 

“What?” She said defensively, preparing another speech before she was cut off.

“You have it so bad.” Rose shook her head in despair and whistled, long and low.

“Oh, shut up!” She snapped, whisking up the pile of dresses and marching to the dressing room. She heard Rose snigger as she followed, saying something under her breath that Rey ignored. Pulling back the black curtain, she stepped into the changing room. It was larger than the ones she was used to and with a lot better lighting, which she supposed was the benefit of buying posh clothes from expensive places. She put on a black dress first, tight fitting at the top and flaring out at the waist. It had little silver detailing which she thought was quite sweet, although when she looked at herself in the mirror it just didn't feel right. Nevertheless, she stepped out and did a twirl for Rose.

“I don't know about that one.” Rose said thoughtfully, looking at the tulle skirts. “It's a bit poofy. We want extra, not ‘I got trapped in the craft section and a five year old has tied me up with fabric they found’ vibes.”

“That was an oddly specific description. Are you okay?”

“Spiffing. Now try on the next dress.”

She tried on a midnight blue velvet dress that had a lot less skirt and more tight fit. It still didn't seem right, unfortunately, but she showed Rose again.

“Okay, that's hot. But not very charity ball and it doesn't really match Ben's tux which is the most important bit.”

“Oh, shove off.”

The final dress she tried was the red one. She was rather taken aback when she looked in the mirror, not recognising the person she was in this fancy evening dress that was the right mix between tight and loose. Dynamic and flowing, it was the best yet. The shoulderless style flattered her, and just the right amount of cleavage was shown for her to feel comfortable. All in all, she loved it. She took her phone out of her bag and took a quick picture, texting it to Ben to ask his opinion. 

_Rey:_  
[Image Attached]  
just got 2 the fancy place u recommended. what do u think???? 

_Ben:  
Do you want my honest opinion or my trademark snarky comments?_

_Rey:  
up 2 u. either would b appreciated :)_

_Ben:  
It's a beautiful dress._

_Rey:  
awwww thx_

_Ben:  
But I'm not sure about the person modelling it. Perhaps someone more aesthetically pleasing should have been chosen. _

_Rey:_  
:(  
u bully 

_Ben:  
You did ask for my opinion. _

“Rey! Are you nearly ready to show me the next dress?” Rose's voice startled her, so much so that she had to fumble with her phone to keep from dropping it. She hastily shoved her phone into her bag and smoothed down the dress before stepping out and twirling for Rose. “Oh my god.”

“Is that a good oh my god or a bad one?” Rey asked, self consciously smoothing down the front.

“You look amazing!” Her friend exclaimed, standing up and walking over to get a better look.

“It's not too much?” She fretted, adjusting the shoulderless part a little. It was a tad out of her comfort zone, but it was also the only dress she'd actually liked out of all the ones she'd tried on.

“Girl, it's perfect.” Rose reassured her. “Seriously, when Ben sees you in that he'll have a hard time keeping his eyes off you. And other things off you, too.”

“Rose! Stop.” She groaned, wishing she hadn't brought her friend along after all. “That's gross.”

“It's the truth.” Rose grinned.

“It's really not.” She shook her head firmly. “We're friends.”

“Keep lying to yourself,” Her friend replied in a sing-song voice. “You know wearing red has been scientifically proven to make women more attractive to men, right?”

“Ugh!” Rey went back into the changing room and carefully put the dress back on the hanger before changing back into her normal clothes. She looked at the price tag and sighed. It was miles out of her usual budget, but she didn't exactly have any alternatives. She would just have to be a little more broke than usual for a few weeks. She thought it would be worth it if Ben liked it, then reprimanded herself. It really shouldn't matter what he thought, and she didn't know why she cared so much. She certainly didn't want to, but looking back on the messages he'd sent her made her feel warmer somehow. 

Shaking herself out of it, she took the dress up to the till and shelled out the money to pay for it, attempting not to pass out afterwards from the shock of blowing that much in one go. Then, it was on to the next shop to find shoes to match the dress. 

Rose led the way, talking about nothing and everything at the same time before the conversation came back to the ball again. “So you're sure you can't take a plus one? I want to come!

“It's a charity event, I'm pretty sure anyone can show up as long as they donate money.” Rey checked the time on her phone. “The invitations are most likely just formality.”

“Nice. I might just come along with you.” Rose said thoughtfully, holding open the door for her. 

“Please don't, I know you're just gonna spend all your time annoying me and Ben.” She shot Rose a knowing look to which she responded with a laugh.

They spent a few minutes assembling an arsenal of footwear of all different types for Rey to try on. First were the heels which she managed to walk around two steps in before falling over and grabbing onto Rode for support, then it was the uncomfortably thin flats that would hurt after one dance, the strange strappy sandals that felt like she was being tied up by the leg, the boots that just didn't work with the outfit, then finally the one pair of shoes she did like.

“They're a bit plain.” Rose sighed, still holding up the high pair of stilettos favourably. “These look a lot better.”

“They might look better, but I can actually walk in these.” Rey walked round the shop once in a circle to prover her point, not loosing her balance once. “They've still got the element of height and look nice enough. I doubt they anyone will spend time looking at my feet.”

“There are some weird people in this world, hun.” Rose shook her head dramatically. “I wouldn't count on that fact.”

“Can you not go ten minutes without saying something that makes me wildly uncomfortable?” Rey grumbled, sitting down and taking the shoes off. The price on them was a lot more reasonable than that of the dress, luckily.

“Nope. It's fun.”

“Not for me.”

“The only things you find fun are talking to and texting Ben.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Sure you do.”

She escaped Rose to pay for the shoes. She wasn't enjoying spending so much money in one go, as she'd never really had enough money to live comfortably off in the first place. This meant she had slightly strange spending habits, and refused to buy one of those £5 coffees Rose enjoyed so much. It seemed like a waste of money, as did all of this. She thanked the cashier, took the bag, and walked with Rose back to her apartment. She also sent Ben a text, which was becoming habitual.

_Rey:  
y is everything so expensive??? I just want shoes that fit and look kinda nice_

_Ben:  
You have to make a good impression. ‘Hey, look how much money I can blow on materialistic things!’ unfortunately seems to be desirable in today's society._

_Rey:_  
oooh edgy  
I can see ur tortured artist coming thru ben 

_Ben:  
I am not a tortured artist. I just enjoy a touch of social commentary on how the world is going to shit._

_Rey:  
you absolute nerd :) _

“Rey? Apartment keys.” Rose held out her hand right in front of Rey’s face. Realising she'd been on autopilot the entire walk and was now outside her front door, she hastily dug them out her pocket and chucked them at Rose. She caught them and held the door open for Rey.

“So, we have four hours to get you ready.” Rose said, looking down at her watch. “It will be tight, but hopefully we'll get you looking even more hot than usual.”

“How is four hours tight?” She gave Rose an incredulous look. “It takes me half an hour tops to get ready for anything. What are you planning on doing to me?”

Rose gave an indecipherable mutter and checked a handwritten timetable she'd taken out from her back pocket. “First things first, hair.”

“What about it?” Rey touched the ends of her hair in worry. An impromptu haircut was definitely not what she wanted.

“Don't look so distressed. I was only going to curl it.” Rose swept around the apartment to collect all the things she'd need for doing her hair. She came back with her arms full of hair sprays, clips, bobby pins, and combs. “Now get comfy and sit still.”

“Remind me why I invited you to help me get ready?” Rey sighed, trying to be as still as possible when the hot curling iron was near her scalp. One of the last things she needed was a burn.

“Because you were freaking out over the phone about how you didn't know how to prepare.” Rose sprayed the first curl with some more heat protecting spray. 

“How long will this whole hair styling process take?” She looked down at her phone for some hope of entertainment. Ben hadn't texted her back. She sighed and placed it face down on the table.

“Not too long, hopefully.”

It turned out that ‘not too long’ meant over an hour until the final bobby pin was scraped against Rey’s scalp and she was free to get off the chair. She almost stumbled over as her leg had gone numb after being in the same position for so long.

“Dare I ask what's next?” She looked at her hair in the pocket mirror she'd put in the table, and admittedly it did look rather nice.

“Makeup.” Rose said gleefully. 

“Oh, god help me.”

She changed into her dress so that she wouldn't have to try and get it on without ruining her face. It felt strange being sat in her crappy apartment in a beautiful dress whilst being made up like royalty by her best friend. It certainly wasn't something she'd ever considered would happen to her.

“Are you sure this isn't too much?” Rey looked at the dramatic eye look in the mirror doubtfully. “This is just a charity ball.”

“You know what they say, you can never be overdressed.” Rose frowned in concentration as she put the dark red lipstick on Rey.

“I'm pretty sure the phrase is ‘overprepared’”

“Same thing, really.”

She finished up after another hour, and when Rey looked at the finished look in the mirror she almost didn't recognise herself. If she had been born in an alternate universe in which her parents were royalty and she was too, she imagined this was probably what she'd look like when she went to the ball hosted for her to find a husband. It was a bit ridiculous, really.

“So now that I look like the Gucci version of me rather than my typical everyday value self, how long before I'm swept off in my enchanted pumpkin carriage to the ball?” She set the mirror down and tries to ignore the nerves steadily rising in her stomach. Although she knew there was nothing to be nervous about, she was on edge.

“Half an hour and I'll drive you down.” Rose was sprawled on the sofa, her work for the day done. She held back a yawn. “Then you're off to meet Prince Charming.”

Rey couldn't find the energy to get annoyed at Rose's teasing again. She sat by her friend on the sofa, careful not to crease her dress, mess up her hair, or ruin the makeup, and waited for the longest thirty minutes of her life.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh so the reason this chapter took forever was:  
> a. i wanted it to be kinda good  
> b. im doing nanowrimo atm and ive been focusing on another project a lot more  
> hope you guys still enjoy the chap!

Swelling music through the summer evening air. Colourful lights blurring into one. Laughter. Chatter. The chime of cutlery against plates. The ring of a fork against a crystal glass. The warmth of wine in the bloodstream.

 

Rey walked through the ornate doors that were over five centuries old. The slight heel on her shoes cut a crisp sound as they crossed stone flooring, avoiding the grooves left by years and years of use. A few people turned at her entrance, people she had never seen before who were dressed in similar levels of formality to her. She glanced around, hoping to find a familiar face. It was then, as she stood looking lost, that she saw Ben.

 

Ben, dressed to the nines in a fancy tux with a blood red tie. Ben, with his hair softer and more glossy than ever. Ben, whose eyes widened as he saw her and took in her dress. Ben, who walked over and knelt in front of her and kissed her hand in courtesy. It felt like she had stepped into another era. Or perhaps a fairytale.

 

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down at him, bathed in golden light, his eyes glittering with the usual mischief that even a fancy tux and new polite personality couldn't hide.

 

“Hi,” She said quietly and he rose back to his normal height, letting her hand fall to her side. He didn't take her eyes off hers. “You clean up nicely.”

 

“As do you.” He inclined his head. “You look lovely.”

 

“Thank you.” A blush spread across her cheeks, warm and against her will. Something about him complimenting her made her feel all kinds of strange. “I don't feel like myself, though.”

 

“I doubt anyone does. Being stuffed into small glittery party dresses and annoying tuxes tends to have a disorienting effect on the general population.” He replied, leading her through the crowds of laughing and dancing people towards the drinks. “Of course, I'm used to it. I've been forced to go to these events since I was born.”

 

“So it's okay for you then?” She raised an eyebrow as he pressed a glass of champagne into her hand.

 

“Of course not. I hate coming to these.” He took a glass of his own and drained it in one. It was such a Ben thing to do that it made her laugh.

 

“I don't see how you could hate it,” She turned slowly on the spot to drink in all of the sights. It was different being in the centre of the ball rather than watching on from outside, submerged inside the talk and music. It was completely unlike anything she'd experienced before. “People congregating and having fun, all for a good cause… okay, maybe I can see why you hate it. ‘Fun’ isn't a word in your vocabulary.”

 

“The effect wears off after the third one.” He leant against the wall, looking around with disdain. “You soon learn it's all the same. A distraction from what's actually important.”

 

“Oh, and what _is_ important?” She asked, leaning next to him. Their height difference meant that she had to tilt her head upwards to make eye contact with him. He considered the question, setting down his empty glass on the table. She waited.

 

“The reason we're here in the first place. The library barely has the funds to stay open since the council removed the grant. Times have changed. We're probably the only two people who go to the library anymore.” He answered, looking forwards rather than at her. His face seemed troubled; she placed a hand on his arm. “Fundraising won't help keep it open.”

 

“Well, not with that attitude.” She raised a perfectly pencilled eyebrow at him. “Whatever happened to optimism?”

 

“I'm not an optimistic man.” He responded flatly.

 

“Really? I couldn't tell.”

 

“The chance that the library survives another year is less than five percent. Tell me how those odds inspire optimism in you, Miss Rey of Sunshine, because they sure as hell don't make me feel confident for the future.” He turned so that he was facing her directly, making eye contact. She lifted her chin defiantly.

 

“Less than five percent is still a chance. And no chance, no matter how small, should be given up on. If you stopped whenever things got tricky or risky you wouldn't be living life to the fullest. You'd be a miserable git left alone wondering a wide variety of what if’s at night when you're desperate to sleep but can't, because knowing you could've done something that might have helped racks you with guilt and regret.” She finished the champagne in her flute and set it down on the table delicately, then adjusted her hair slightly. He looked as though he was trying to suppress a derisive snort.

 

“I don't let feelings like guilt or regret have any power over me.” He replied, and as she stepped forward slightly his height over her was made more obvious. “Useless waste of time. Let the past die. Kill it if you have to.”

 

She didn't quite know how to reply to that statement, and so decided not to. Instead, she changed the subject. “So. We're at a ball. And believe at balls people dance.”

 

“Correct.” He responded dully. “A pointless formality.”

 

“Well, I want to dance. So you can join me or not.” She stepped back and turned towards the dance floor, wave of curls flowing around her back with the movement. Feeling slightly unsteady in her heels, she tried to adopt a confident walk and made a point not to turn around to see if Ben was following her. She didn't want him to think that she cared about whether or not she wanted do dance with him that much, because she really didn't. Well, that's what she was telling herself, anyway.

 

She managed to find a partner, a tall, ginger man who looked like he'd swallowed something particularly sour. He wasn't someone Rey would've chosen to interact with, but since Ben was sulking in the corner she didn't have any other options. So she just smiled and stuck with it as she was lead through all the steps if the waltz with more aggression than she thought was necessary. Counting in threes, she made sure not to step on her partner's feet, no matter how much she wanted to. Causing a scene wasn't going to be a good idea.

 

“I'm Rey.” She introduced herself as she was spun around and fought against dizziness. “It's nice to meet you.”

 

The man grunted as a form of response, and she felt her respect for him drop three or four levels. Manners didn't cost anything, though the way he was acting it was as though it would cost him his life to even say ‘hello’ back. Slightly annoyed, she kept waltzing and pointedly forgot the ‘sorry’ when she stepped on his foot, all thoughts of not causing a scene dismissed. The man muttered something under his breath.

 

She caught Ben's eye briefly, halfway through a turn, and tried to put an impassive look on her face, as if this dance wasn't bothering her in the slightest. To her horror, he pushed off the wall and began to wall over. Unsure what he would do, she kept dancing and hoped that the situation would resolve itself without too much of a fuss. The odds didn't currently seem to be in her favour.

 

Ben weaved his way through the dancing people before tapping the man she was dancing with on the shoulder. She suddenly wanted to bury her face in her hands. “Leave, Hux. I have to talk to Rey here for a second.

 

The ginger, Hux, gave him a cold glare. “And why should I do what you say, Ren?”

 

“Because you know the consequences if you don't.” He replied lowly, voice dripping with venom that sent a chill down her spine.

 

“Very well then.” Hux scowled, his dislike for Ben made very clear. She wondered what exactly the dynamic was between them and how it had become that way. Mercifully, (or not, she hadn't quite decided) he did leave, heading towards the drinks and downing a glass of champagne in one. Ben picked up the dance where Hux had left her, ignoring her puzzled look.

 

“I thought dancing was, I quote, ‘a pointless formality’.” She said in way of greeting, raising an eyebrow at him. “What's inspired your change of heart?”

 

“The people you choose to dance with.” He said flatly, twirling her round with no great enthusiasm. Her good mood soon dropped.

 

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” She scoffed, narrowly avoiding stepping on his toes. “I don't need your approval.”

 

“You don't know what Armitage Hux is like.” He replied firmly, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else. Rey felt much the same way. “He's a despicable excuse for a human being.”

 

“I know he let you camp out on his sofa when you were in a family crisis, and that doesn't seem despicable to me. It actually sounds quite compassionate.” She debated, mind spinning long after she had physically stopped. The lights seemed to haze together into a golden amber with the sparkle of crystal, like frenzied brushstrokes across a canvas.

 

“Whatever he displays is the absolute opposite of compassion. Whatever he does, he does for himself.” He said with distaste, as though talking about him left a bad taste in his mouth. She could've sworn she felt his grip on her tighten fractionally. “You're so naive that you don't realise these things.”

 

“Excuse me?” She replied, offended. “I am not naive. And why did he call you Ren, anyway?”

 

“It's… a nickname everyone has for me at college.” He answered after a couple of moments deliberation. “You know how it is. Ben but with an R.”

 

“Sure.” The response seemed legitimate enough, but for some reason it made her feel uneasy and unsatisfied. There was something that was telling her that he was not being entirely truthful, although she soon reprimanded herself for doubting him. He'd proven that she could trust him time and time again. Why would now be any different?

 

The piece of music came to an end and with it, their dance. He dropped his hand from her waist and she felt herself strangely missing the warmth that was there previously. She watched him shrink back into the shadows, towards the alcohol again, and tried to contain a sigh. He always knew how to put a damp towel on her mood when it came to having fun.

 

Lost for what to do, it was a relief when she saw the librarian. Leia, standing alone, smiling and surveying the ball with a glass of champagne in her hand. When she caught Rey’s gaze her eyes lit up and she beckoned her over. She tried not to cringe at the harsh sound of heel on hard flooring as she made her way across the room.

 

“Rey, dear, you look beautiful.” She smiled and held her arms out for a hug. Rey happily obliged, smiling too. Leia was dressed in a dark, midnight blue dress that reminded her of the night sky, with a pair of dainty heels and her hair up in a no nonsense French twist. Some things never change.

 

“Thank you.” She ducked her head out of embarrassment and gratitude. “You look great too.”

 

“That's very sweet of you, dear.” She stepped out of the hug and took a sip from her flute glass. “Now, how've you been doing?”

 

“Well, not much has happened since the last time we spoke.” She shrugged, brushing a stray curl out of the way of her face. “Considering that was only a few days ago.”

 

“Yes, but how have you been feeling? Is the man who you were frustrated with a few weeks ago still bothering you?” She asked in a motherly way which made Rey’s heart warm affectionately.

 

“Oh, him? We've been doing a lot better. I think he might actually have accepted the fact we're friends now. I got his number the other day, actually, and I think the text conversations have been helping.” She recounted, a small smile on the corner of her lips. “He's still being a bit difficult, though I think that's just his personality.”

 

“I'm glad to hear of it. Oh, excuse me one second, dear, I just saw one of the council members. I need to talk to him about the plans for the future of the library.” Leia placed down her glass and gave Rey a fleeting, parting hug. “I'll make time to talk to you properly later.”

 

“Okay, see you then.” She let Leia get to her business and went back to wandering around the room like a lost puppy. Despite her slight disagreement with Ben about her choice of dance partner, she didn't really know anyone else here so he seemed like the best option. Awkwardly, she stood by his side. He looked down, frowning.

 

“Oh, it's you.”

 

“That's such a polite way of greeting, wow. I'm shocked by your good manners.” She replied rather grumpily. “I thought you were supposed to pretend to be gentlemanly at these things for your mother.”

 

“Pretending gets tiring, sweetheart. I'm a naturally mean and rude person, and no number of fancy suits I'm stuffed in will change that fact.”

 

“Please stop calling me that, it's gotten old now.” She cringed at the nickname.

 

“What, sweetheart?” He teased, which made her more annoyed.

 

“Yes. Just, shh.” She swatted him in the arm to try and get him to stop it. The whole ‘sweetheart’ thing had been getting really old and just generally irksome due to the relentless amount of teasing she received from people about it.

 

“I'm afraid I can't do that.” He responded flatly.

 

“Why not?” She questioned, tugging on his sleeve to get his full attention.

 

“You're cute when you're annoyed at me.”

 

“You're insufferable!” She let go of his sleeve and folded her arms, cheeks warm. She'd often been told she was scary when she was annoyed, and that she was the kind of person that you'd want to avoid when in a bad mood, but never before that she was cute. It was probably just an attempt to wind her further, she supposed.

 

“Believe me, I know.” He said as a toast, holding his glass out in her direction before drinking it.

 

“Ugh, I give up.”

 

“Good choice, sweetheart.”

 

She glared at him. He smiled slightly. She felt a smile forming on her face and the bubble of laughter rising in her throat because of the pure ridiculousness of their argument. Fighting it off valiantly, she covered her mouth with her hand and looked away, but he'd already seen and actually laughed himself. That was her tipping point, and she simply burst out laughing.

 

“Okay, fine. You can call me sweetheart if you really want to because it's quite funny. Just don't do it in front of other people. Deal?” She reasoned, wondering if she should come up with a nickname to call him in return.

 

“Hmm, maybe. We'll see.” He dismissed, still smiling slightly. It was such a rare sight that she tried to memorise every part of that moment in as much detail as possible.

 

“Ben, stop being an ass.” She complained, hitting him again. “Just agree to my terms.”

 

“Fine, fine.” He stepped away, out of reach. “You can stop physically abusing me now.”

 

She smiled and blew the loose curl hanging in front of her face out the way. It didn't do much, to her dismay. He reached over and carefully tucked it behind her ear, his hand lightly brushing the side of her cheek. They made eye contact, he was calm and she was the complete opposite. Her breathing shallowed slightly and she tried for a confident smile to cover up the ocean of emotions currently churning inside.

 

“Ah, Ben. Lovely to see you, dear. And with Rey too.”

 

She jumped at Leia's voice and looked away from him quickly out of awkwardness. He retracted his hand. She leant back against the wall, next to him, refusing to make eye contact.

 

“Hello, mother.” He said.

 

She looked up sharply. It felt like her entire world had been tipped upside down. She didn't know how to compute this new information, something that she felt should have been obvious to her but wasn't. The fact that the person she had been complaining about to Leia was her son, and the fact that Leia was his mother who didn't support or understand him was just crazy.

 

“Now, don't give me that tone.” Leia reprimanded him, and Rey thought she may have felt faintly sick. The guilt of what she'd said was beginning to catch up to her with this revelation.

 

“What tone?” Ben scowled at her, and Rey felt like she shouldn't probably be there. It appeared to be a continuation of a previous, private dispute that wasn't supposed to happen during this fundraising event.

 

“That tone.” She said firmly, giving him an authoritative stare down. Rey wished the ground would swallow her up.

 

“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes and ignored Leia for the time being. She did not look very happy at that dismissal, as though she was his subordinate.

 

“Listen here, young man. You're at a public fundraising event. Your job is to look happy and to convince people to donate so that we can keep our doors open another season. I will not tolerate you trying to start arguments. Is that clear?”

 

Rey was surprised by how scary Leia could be when she tried.

 

“Crystal.” Ben muttered bitterly, managing to produce another glass of alcohol to drink. She was surprised by how well he seemed to be holding it.

 

“Rey,” Leia turned her attention onto her with a smile and Rey tried to give one back. “I see you've met my son.”

 

“Yeah.” She replied awkwardly, as she still couldn't quite believe the fact that they were related to each other at all. “That I have.”

 

“I hope he hasn't been causing you too much trouble.” She said, inclining her head towards Ben who was currently sulking, for lack of a better word.

 

“Oh, no, no, he really hasn't. We've had a good chat, haven't we?” She nudged him in the ribs to prompt him into a response.

 

“Yep. Thrilling.” He replied sarcastically, not looking up from his glass. “It's been fun.”

 

Perhaps sending the tense and awkward air surrounding them all, Leia decided to take her leave to Rey’s almost relief. “Well, I'll leave you both to it. See you later.”

 

Leia went back over to one of the men in suits to talk about the library. Rey waited until she was out of earshot before rounding on Ben.

 

“Mother?!” She said with pure incredulity, more shocked he hadn't told her than anything. “Leia Organa-Solo is your mother? Why didn't you tell me?”

 

“It never came up in any of our conversation topics.” He shrugged simply. This managed to make her more annoyed at him, something she didn't previously think was possible.

 

“It's a pretty key piece of information about you.” She shook her head and turned to face him. “And you had plenty of opportunity.”

 

“Has it occurred to you that maybe I don't want you to know everything about me, Rey?” He replied, aggravated. “You don't need to stick your nose into my business and snoop about my life to try and cure whatever insatiable sense of boredom you have that compelled you to talk to me in the first place. You've never told me any details about your family, so why are you upset that I didn't tell you any of mine?”

 

“That's different.” She said, and it felt as though she had been doused in cold water. “That's completely different.”

 

“How so? We both don't like our family or talking about them. When you said that you didn't want to go into it, I respected that. And I thought you'd respect my right to privacy too.”

 

“It's different because you have a family!” She exploded, setting her glass down in fear she might break it. “You have people who give a damn about you! Your mother loves you, your father does too and, by the looks of it, you just choose to be cold and callous towards them and then play the victim later. Oh, woe is fucking Ben Solo with his rich father and his loving mother who don't support every dick move he makes. I have no one! My parents were crack addicts who abandoned me at a train station when I was seven and are most likely rotting in the ground somewhere on the other side of the country! So that's how it's different, Ben, that's exactly why I have no sympathy for you.”

 

He looked at her, at a loss for words,before tentatively reaching out. “Rey--”

 

She slapped his hand away. “Save it. I don't want your pity.”

 

And with that, she stormed outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so that concludes part one of the ball :) hope you all enjoyed this very late, kinda long chapter


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I am back with another update!  
> I wish I had more time to write tbh, but I'm trying as hard as I can.  
> love u all xx  
> \- brie

It was pleasantly cool by the outdoor fountains. As she perched on the edge, making sure not to get wet, Rey closed her eyes and listened to the white noise of evening cicadas and crickets that came with summertime and reflected on what had just happened. A dull throb set behind her eyes, a headache forming from stress and other things too.

 

Her outburst had felt like a dream, as though everything that had happened was a hazy and difficult to remember mess, completely out of her control and surreal. A stark contrast to now, where she shivered slightly as the coolness turned icy. One by one, she removed her hairpins and let her hair fall naturally around her shoulders, shaking it out a little. The headache that she'd had seemed to lessen now that the pins were no longer scraped tightly against her scalp. For good measure and more comfort, she carefully removed her shoes and set them down next to her. 

 

She felt bad about what she'd said, that was indisputable. What was disputable was whether or not she actually regretted it. Years of bottling up her emotions had led to this moment of cathartic outburst and she felt strangely light without it hanging over her like a constant shadow of doom. In fact, now that the moment had passed, she found herself almost wishing she had more opportunities to siphon off her deeply rooted issues. However, she knew that it was no good to dwell on the past. The past was unchangeable. The future was just waiting to be made.

 

She exhaled deeply, running a hand across the water and creating little ripples. The water was freezing cold, so cold that it made a shiver run through her and the urge to remove her hand was almost overwhelming. However, she kept skimming across the surface and tilted her head towards the sky. 

 

The stars were out, in all their glory. The clear night sky meant an unobstructed view of them twinkling merrily, a reminder of all that had and could have been. The sounds of the ball carrying on indoors were muffled as they reached her ears, the laughter setting a strange feeling in her chest. The corners of her eyes stung and she quickly blinked away the oncoming tears that distorted her vision and made the stars blur together into one formidable sheen of light.

 

“Never take the stars away from me.” She whispered to the night, that beautiful mess of navy and royal blues which had remained a constant throughout her unpredictable life. Alone, and frightened of the future like a child, she was reminded of the night her parents left her. The empty promises. The daze she was left in as the chill set in, the stars her only comfort. The wind picked up, and her curled hair whipped around her face. 

 

A soft rustle of leaves made her aware of another person's presence by one of the sculpted hedges. Seeming apprehensive, the figure paused, directed straight towards her, then turned on its heel.

 

“Wait.” She called quietly, unsure if she was simply imagining things now. The figure paused but did not turn around. She waited. A minute passed, the sound of running water and cicadas deafeningly loud. “Who is it?”

 

“Someone you don't want to see.” Came Ben's response, and he stepped forward, towards her. Illuminated by the moonlight, she found her attention immediately drawn to him. She was unable to take her eyes off him. 

 

“That's not quite true.” She was aware of how short of breath she sounded, and also how hard she was finding it to produce a response to his words.

 

“If your reaction half an hour ago is anything to go by, I'd say that you'd rather I never talked to you again.” He stayed where he was, several feet of space between her and him. It felt like miles, filled with tensions and things said and left unsaid. The weight of being on such thin ice around each other felt suffocating, but she had no idea how to remedy it.

 

“That's…” At a loss for words, she sighed and put her head in her hands. The curls fell in front of her face like a curtain, and she tried to hide the fact that a small, solitary tear was making its way down her cheek. She heard rather than saw him hesitantly approach her, pausing a few steps in front of her. When she didn't stop him or make any move to indicate that she wanted him to leave, he sat next to her on the edge of the fountain. He left space between them, an invitation for her to leave his company at any point or simply ignore him. 

 

“You know, I've always hated these fancy gardens.” He said to fill the silence. She heard the ripple of water as he dragged his hand across the surface. “Too many times I escaped from social functions to hide here. Now whenever I see it, all I remember is that, the negative emotions of loneliness and being an outsider associated with the plants and fountains.”

 

She let him speak without interruption , unsure why he was being so open all of a sudden. 

 

“One time I escaped and sat on this fountain, just looking up at the stars. There were billions of them, shining overhead. They looked so close. But when I reached out to touch them, they were out of my reach. My fingers grasped only cold air. Flaming balls of liquid nitrogen, they were so beautiful in their destructiveness. Truly beautiful, not any of that soft and pretty bullshit. That's not beauty. Beauty is terror. Beauty is smiling in the face of danger because you accept your fate, it's the dark bruises that form across knuckles after a fist fight, it's watching the world descend into chaos.” He'd stopped moving his hand through the water, instead sitting stock still. “And the stars that night was unattainable. The bittersweetness of it all was the beauty.”

 

“You've a weird view of beauty.” She said quietly. “Beauty is the lilting of a melody and the cadence of a well-versed orator. The blossoming of flowers in spring. The morning birds soaring through the air.”

 

“True beauty is rarely soft and never consolatory. It's the lightning striking the ground, it's the raging storms that tear apart nations.” 

 

She gave a half shrug in a noncommittal way, her curls brushing against her bare, freckled shoulders. She gave him a questioning look as he reached out to touch her hair. 

 

“You missed a pin.” He explained, removing it gently and then placing it in her hand. The final ringlet fell loose in her hair, tumbling to her shoulders. He gently tucked it behind her ear. “There.”

 

“Thank you.” She replied, looking into his dark eyes as he searched hers.

 

A gust of wind blew it out of place, and they exchanged a small smile. 

 

“Oh well.” She moved her gaze downwards and soon they were back to their previous position, an invisible barrier between them.

 

“With beauty,” He continued, as if he hadn't stopped his monologue. She got the sense that he was simply speaking whatever came to mind. “It's not like prettiness. Songs are pretty, flowers are generally pretty, some people are pretty, but rarely are people beautiful.”

 

“I love the way you see the world.” She said, because it was the first unfiltered thought that came to her mind. 

 

“I love the way your soul sings.” He replied, with a half smile on his lips. She got the sense that, despite his expression being slightly mocking, he might actually be genuine. “It's beautiful.”

 

Knowing the power he held behind that word made the almost compliment resonate with her. She moved along so there was less distance between them on the edge of the fountain, so that they were no longer as pointedly apart from each other.

 

Not pretty. Not soft, nor consolatory. That's what she was to him, and somehow it didn't make her mad. In fact, it was pretty much the woman she wanted to be. She was a raging storm, sometimes with moments that caught people's breath in wonder, and didn't deny the destruction she caused. He recognised this. 

 

It really shouldn't have meant as much to her as it did. She had the feeling she'd remember that night for years to come.

 

“Are you still upset?” He asked bluntly, which brought her sharply back to the reality of their situation. She searched herself for answers. The truth was that she wasn't sure anymore. She still did feel a little hurt, confused, even betrayed, but her logical side argued that she was being dumb.

 

“No.” She said slowly, overthinking every syllable. “Not now.”

 

He actually looked relieved. “Good. Because my mother will not let me hear the end of it if I don't report back and tell her you're happy. She seemed quite distressed when you left. As did everyone else, who were all glaring at me. 

 

She winced. “Fuck, sorry.”

 

“You're not sorry.” He replied matter of factly, looking down at the cuffs of his dinner jacket in disinterest. It seemed it was back to the normal Ben. “No,” he said when she tried to cut in. “Don't start.”

 

“Okay.” She rolled her eyes. It was quite true. “I won't. If you don't want my apology, I won't waste my time giving it.”

 

“And that's the kind of attitude you should have all the time, sweetheart.”

 

“What, like you? Where you say something very hurtful or incorrect and just glare at the people who want you to apologise rather than owning up to and fixing your mistakes?” She raised an eyebrow at him. 

 

“Don't do that.”

 

“Don't do what?”

 

“Raise your eyebrow at me.”

 

“You're not the boss of me.” She replied stubbornly. 

 

“I know.” He replied coolly, messing with his tie. She had the urge to lean over and fix it. “I never said I was.”

 

“You implied it in the way you were telling me what to do.” She mumbled in response. He ignored her. 

 

“Anyway. This ball fucking sucks.” He said conclusively, changing the subject.

 

“I honestly don't think it's that bad.” She said lightly, as despite their argument she had actually had quite a bit of fun. 

 

“What do you say to going to do something else?”

 

“Well, it's 11pm, so I'm not exactly sure what we'd be able to do at this time.” Rey frowned slightly, then gave him an inquisitive look.

 

“You'd be surprised.” He stood up and then offered her a hand to pull her up. She took it, trying to figure him out. He so often fluctuated between being mean and dishing out deep thoughts and even compliments that she wasn't sure what his true colours were. He pulled her up, and they stood so close that she could see his breath in the cold air.

 

“Go on then. Surprise me.” She challenged. And he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a side note, I've been wanting to add some more funny tags to this fic. please leave suggestions below!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so hear me out... I've had exams and I've generally been tired  
> but I am BACK and hopefully better than ever with a new update!  
> apologies for my pathetic schedule, love you all  
> \- brie xx

The streets at night were lit by only the amber glow from streetlamps. The cold wind made Rey wish she'd brought a coat, but then again she hadn't anticipated roaming the streets near midnight with her friend. Seeming to sense she was cold, he shrugged off his dinner jacket and handed it to her.

 

“Oh, no thanks.” She tried to hand it back to him and he made no move to take it. “You'll be cold.”

 

“I will. However, you're shivering loads and not very subtly.” He carried on walking with purpose, down side streets and back alleys. She relented and put the jacket on over her shoulders. It was huge on her, but it was warm and smelled like him.

 

“Where are we even going, anyway?” She asked, feet beginning to hurt from all of the walking in her impractical shoes. “All you've done is give me cryptic clues and I'm too tired and emotionally unstable to try and figure them out.”

 

They stopped at a crossing and waited for the pedestrian light to turn, watching the few cars still driving at this time whizz past at breakneck speed.

 

“You asked me to surprise you. So that means no hints nor clues because then it wouldn't be a surprise.” He said, which was an answer to her question, just annoyingly not what she wanted to hear.

 

They crossed the road quickly, and Rey gave a sign of thanks to the car that had stopped for them.

 

“You don't need to thank him.” Ben scoffed as they reached the other side of the pavement. “He's required by law to stop at a red light.”

 

“Yeah, well, it's polite. Something you clearly haven't heard of being.” She replied haughtily, following him through a rather overgrown path through some bushes.

 

“Oh, I've heard of it. I decided it's not for me.” He held a branch to the side so she could get past without it scratching her which completely contradicted his statement.

 

“Is your surprise for me just a trek through the bushes?” She carefully stepped over the fallen logs and avoided the stinging nettles. “Because this isn't actually all that fun. I think I prefer the ball.”

 

“No. Just keep going.”

 

They finally emerged at the back of a large building. She couldn't tell what it was, it was too dark to see far in front of her and there weren't any signs, so she stood back watched as he strode towards the backdoor and gave it a few tugs. It didn't budge. He pulled something out of his pocket and crouched down, fiddling with the lock.

 

“Uh, what are you doing?” She asked in confusion, pulling the jacket tighter around her as a gust of wind blew through.

 

“Opening the door, what does it look like?” He stood back up and gave the handles another pull. They swung open with a quiet screech.

 

“That's breaking and entering!” She nervously glanced around their surroundings and really hoped there weren't any CCTV cameras, or they'd probably be arrested. “That's illegal!”

 

He gave her a sardonic look in response and stepped inside. She paused, conflicted, then hurriedly followed him, closing the door behind her.

 

It was pitch black. She hesitantly took a few steps forward. She still wasn't sure what they were doing but tried to ignore those feelings of doubt and place trust in Ben instead. It proved difficult, as her mind was racing with millions of possible outcomes for this ‘surprise’ most of which were not positive. She continued to walk forward and collided with something. She let out a yelp and scrambled for something to hold on to. The lights flickered into life. Ben looked down at her, unimpressed.

 

“Shit. Sorry,” She tried to ignore the look he was giving her and instead look around at their surroundings. There were long lanes sectioned out across the shiny wooden floor, shelves with bowling balls of all sizes stacked on them, a bar, and a place to get bowling shoes. Strangely, she was rather excited. “Woah. Okay,”

 

While she was looking around, Ben had moved on and was fiddling with something behind the counter at the actual entrance. A tinny fanfare and the screens above the lanes turned on. “Up for a game?” He challenged, amusement glittering in his dark eyes.

 

“Hell yes,” She grinned, running over to one of the lanes to input her nickname for the game, all thoughts of what they were doing is probably illegal replaced by the determination to win.

 

“Reyoflight?” He read aloud over her shoulder, snorting. Indignantly, Rey pressed the confirm button. The seahorse on screen spun around in a spiral of bubbles. “Really? That's a shit pun. What are you, thirteen?”

 

“Well, I like it. I bet that you can't come up with anything better.” She ducked under his arm and went on a quest to find them some bowling balls. In all honesty, she didn't know the difference between all of the different types, so took a few trips to bring an assortment to their lane. During the time she was gone, Ben had chosen a name for himself and started the game.

 

“Kyle Ron. How ingenious.”

 

“It says, Kylo Ren.”

 

“Whatever you say, Kyle.”

 

“Rey!” He punched her lightly on the arm, outraged.

 

“Looks like I'm up first.” She laughed, quickly moving out of his way. She picked up a bowling ball, tested its weight. A deep breath and she just went for it. It rolled along quickly and knocked into a few pins. All but two of them fell down.

 

“So now you need to knock down those two to get a spare.” He instructed from his place on the bench.

 

“I know how to play bowling, Kyle.” She grinned and bowled, knocking down the last two. A jellyfish came on the screen along with the word ‘Spare!’. She cheered.

 

“Stop calling me Kyle,” He sighed, head in hands. She sat down beside him and gave him a nudge to indicate it was his go. He got up slowly and selected the heaviest bowling ball of the lot. He bowled. It rolled across the polished wood incredibly fast and impacted with the centre pin so hard that it knocked all the rest of them down too. “Strike.”

 

“Don't worry, I saw.” Taking off his dinner jacket, she placed it neatly across the other bench and then lined up to bowl. “Oh, also I'm parched. Could you get me a drink?”

 

“Sure thing. What do you want? Coke? Lemonade? Beer?” He listed, walking over to the bar and surveying their wares.

 

“Beer, preferably. And you are going to pay them back for all of this, right…?” She paused and lowered the bowling ball, meeting his gaze seriously. As much fun as she was having already, she felt tremendously bad about stealing drinks and food from the owners of the alley.

 

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it,” He poured two bottles into glasses and carried them over. Rey rolled her eyes. Her head was neither little nor pretty and she didn't appreciate his patronising tone. “My friend owns this place. He'd be cool with us coming here.”

 

“I hope so. Because, unlike you, I don't enjoy partaking in illegal activities.”

 

“What illegal activity have I ever been involved in?” He passed her the glass.

 

“I'm sure you've done something. You don't exactly seem like the kind of person who follows any rules.” Taking a sip, she shrugged.

 

“Fair enough. Now bowl.” He gestured towards the lane. She did.

 

Around three-quarters of the way through the game, Rey was feeling more than a little buzzed from the alcohol she'd consumed that night. Her bowls became wonky, her cheeks became flushed, and she was giggling at almost everything. It felt nice, though, the warmth from the drinks smoothing over any bad feelings she'd harboured a few hours previously. Ben was being strangely nice and polite all the time, even if they did keep threatening to destroy each other whenever the other person was in the lead. Everything was good-natured, and despite the fact it was late, she didn't feel tired at all.

 

“Fuck, you know what we should do?” Ben watched as his bowling ball rolled into the gutter and the sea creatures on the screen recording their game results floundered.

 

“Uhh, pour another glass and heat up some chicken and chips in the kitchens?” She suggested, spread comfortably across one of the benches.

 

“No, but that sounds great too. Forfeits. Whoever loses the game has to complete one.” He answered, passing the bowling ball to her. She slowly swiveled her legs around and stood up, approaching the lane.

 

“Yeah, like what?” By some miracle, she got a strike, putting her in front of Ben. “Woo! I love this game!”

 

“Loser slides along the lane in their socks like a bowling ball.” He decided.

 

“Oh, fuck yes.” She grinned, even happier to be winning the game at that time. Seeing him slide along would be the highlight of her life. “You're on.”

 

The game became highly competitive, with them both trying their utmost to win. By the final bowl, they were both silent, concentrating hard. The scores were close, and whoever won this would win the whole game.

 

Rey went first. She lined up and then bowled. It knocked over seven of the pins, leaving two left on the right side and one other over on the left side. She sighed and aimed for the right side, knocking over both of the pins.

 

Ben stepped up, with the heaviest ball and look of complete concentration on her face. He bowled and knocked over five pins, the ball rolling into the gutter. He took the next ball and tried to get a spare. He was unsuccessful.

 

The screen flashed with ‘Reyoflight is the winner!’ and the little, animated sea creatures danced.

 

“Yes!” She celebrated, grinning widely. He gave her a mocking round of applause, which she appreciated nonetheless. “Go slide, Solo.”

 

He carefully took off his shoes, handing them to her. “Hold these.”

 

“With pleasure.” She looked down at his bright yellow socks with a peculiar pattern and sniggered. “Oh my god, are those submarines?”

 

“It's a Beatles reference. My mother bought them for me.” He put one foot onto the shiny wooden surface and almost slipped over instantly. “Fuck!”

 

She stifled her laughter with her spare hand. He made his way up the lane, arms outstretched for balance.

 

“You should join me!” He called from by the pins at the end of the lane. “It's fun!”

 

“Ugh, fine!” She kicked off her shoes and kept on the invisible socks, sliding carefully down to him. Somehow, she picked up way too much momentum and her before careful route down became hectic. “Oh, shit!”

 

“I've got you,” Ben reached out and grabbed onto her as she slid past, pulling her close to stop her from crashing.

 

“Thanks,” She smiled. “That was nearly a complete disaster.”

 

“You're lucky I'm in a good mood. It would've been hilarious to see you fall over.”

 

“Hey!” She pushed him hard and he slid backward and away from her. “I can't believe you'd even think of letting me suffer. Well, actually I can, but…”

 

“It's beside the point,” He finished for her.

 

“Precisely. I'm glad we're on the same page.” She brushed her curls over her shoulder to keep them out of the way. She could've sworn she felt his eyes linger on her bare skin, but by the time she looked back up his eyes were on her face.

 

“I'm glad too,” He agreed and without warning grabbed her hand, pulling her along the polished floor with him.

 

“Ben!” She screeched, hanging onto his arm for dear life as he slid about with reckless abandon. “Oh my god, slow down!”

 

“Just you try and stop me,” He grinned at her, and it must have been a side effect of the alcohol because she thought it stayed on his face for longer than a few seconds.

 

“We're going to crash into the wall!” She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the impact. He was laughing as they collided, laughing as she swore and scrambled for a grip on the wall, and laughing as he pinned her in place with his hands against the wall. She grabbed onto his shoulders to stop herself from slipping, slowly opening her eyes. He was still smiling, shaking with laughter. She began to crack up too, glad that she wasn't injured at all.

 

The front door slammed open with a bang and they both startled. Rey fell back against the wall, pulling Ben with her. Unprepared, he fell against her, slipping backward at the same time. A ginger man stood with a very annoyed look on his face and her heart began beating quickly for a very different reason.

 

“What the actual fuck do you think you're doing on my property?” With a wave of panic, she recognised him as the ginger man she'd danced with at the ball. Trying her hardest not to slip over, she disentangled herself from Ben. Her cheeks were still a hot pink from laughter, her hair tossed over her shoulder so the bare skin was exposed. And by some force of bad luck, Ben's face had landed in the nape of her neck. It was a highly compromising position to be caught in, and completely accidental. She shoved Ben off her and hoped he would explain.

 

“Ah, Hux.” He stood up casually, leaning against the wall. “Fancy seeing you here. Wasn't expecting a late night visit from you.”

 

The redhead’s eyes narrowed and he looked even angrier than when he'd first walked in. “Ben Solo. Breaking and entering, stealing my shit. Why am I not surprised in the slightest?”

 

“Probably because your expectations of me are so low anyway that nothing could ever surprise you.” He replied with a shrug. Rey internally facepalmed. If anything, he was making the situation way worse.

 

“With your little girlfriend too. Get out. Both of you.” Hux gave her a death glare. To her surprise, Ben did what he said.

 

“Uh, we're not dating. This is all a big misunderstanding--” She protested as Ben guided her to the end of the bowling lane to collect their shoes.

 

“Your… Situation.” Hux sneered. Ben hands shook as he put on his shoes. She watched him in worry. He straightened up and towered over Hux.

 

“Fuck off, Armitage.” He said lowly, threateningly. Conflicted, she glanced at the door and then back at the men making intense eye contact. She gently knocked her foot against Ben's to get his attention and signal that it would be best if they just left, as much as she thought Hux deserved to be decked. After all, they had technically broken in, and she was rather pissed at Ben for sat lying that it was owned by a friend. Some kind of friends they were.

 

He got the message and picked up his dinner jacket, unfolding it and draping it over Rey’s shoulders. She pulled it around herself and bit her lip lightly.

 

“We'll discuss this later, Solo,” Hux said with such animosity that it made an involuntary shiver run down her spine. Ben put his arm around her shoulders loosely and led her out, the doors between Hux and the outside world closing behind them.

 

“You absolute shitbrain!” She rounded on him once they were outside, pushing his arm off her. Startled, he let go. She shoved him hard in the chest and then strode on towards the bus stop. “You fucking moron!”

 

“Jesus Christ, calm down.” He followed her quickly along the dirty pavement and round the street corners.

 

“You told me that it would be fine! You said that a friend owned it!” She exclaimed, running a distressed hand through her hair and picking up the pace even more. “So no, I will not calm down!”

 

“You're being unreasonable,” He caught her hand in his. She whirled around, expression incredulous.

 

“In what way? That Armitage guy thinks we're, we're… and you didn't say anything!” She yanked her hand away and carried on walking.

 

“It would've made the situation worse, listen--” He caught up with her stride so they were side by side. She looked pointedly forwards. “He wouldn't have believed me anyway.”

 

She elected to ignore him and took the next left turn in stony silence.

 

“Fine, I'll talk to him tomorrow. Where the hell are you going…?” He backed up in himself when she took a sharp turn to follow her.

 

“Home. So leave me alone.” She replied shortly.

 

“You've got my jacket.”

 

“Here, have your stupid jacket!” She took it off and chucked it at him, carrying on. He managed to catch it.

 

“Rey,” He said more softly. She slowed her pace a little. “Rey, let me walk you home. It's late and it's dark.”

 

She slowed down more, back to a normal walking pace, but didn't reply. She was too inexplicably annoyed with him and herself and the world to form a sentence that wasn't harsh.

 

He took her silence without complaint and followed her to the door of her apartment building. She pulled open the door, then paused briefly. A million different emotions ran through her brain and she glanced back at Ben on the doorstep.

 

“I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. I'll sort it out. It was fun while it lasted, though, right?” His look of concern was what convinced her to throw her arms around him in a hug. Taken aback, he staggered a little bit. “Oof, Rey.”

 

“I had fun mostly. Thank you.” She said quietly. She was still annoyed, although the cool night air had slowly worked its magic on her and slowly begun to calm her down. “I appreciate the effort.”

 

“Good. Next time you ask for a surprise I'll pick something a little less thrill seeking.” He responded lightly with the ghost of a smile. She smiled back, looking away. They took a step back from each other. A cool breeze sent her curls blowing loosely around her face again. “Goodnight, Rey.”

 

“Night, Ben.” She gave him a little wave and then stepped inside the building, closing the door gently behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooow  
> Today's unanswered question: when will my writing schedule fix itself?  
> Sorry again guys, I know this is unfair to you all. I really want to do this story well  
> \- bri xxx

“You've got to be kidding me. Tell me you're just joking, please.”

 

Rey glanced around the bookshelves around her, avoiding direct eye contact. “You told me you wouldn't freak out.”

 

“When you called me and said ‘hey we need to talk, don't freak out’ I agreed because I assumed it would be something like you ate the food marked as mine again or that you needed some extra money because you lost your job.” Finn stood in front of her, his arms folded. “Not that you'd got hammered and broken in to a freaking bowling alley with the guy who has put you in emotional distress multiple times to the point where you didn't answer my calls for a week because you were in such a bad mood. So forgive me for not taking this well.”

 

She swallowed and brushed back the hair that fallen in front of her eyes. “I know you don't like him but you've only interacted with him once, give him a chance. You trust me, don't you?”

 

“Of course I trust you.” He sighed and leant back against the bookshelf. “However, I don't agree with you. Believe me, he's trouble. I know you're into bad guys or whatever, but Jesus Christ, woman, the only reason you're not in jail right now is because you booked it before his friend had the chance to call for reinforcements. Take a step back for a minute. He's not good enough to be your friend.”

 

“Rose supports me,” She muttered, eyes focused solely on the carpeted floor. In her peripheral vision she saw Finn throw his hands in the air.

 

“Of course she does! She lives for gossip.” He exclaimed, accidentally hitting a book off the shelf. It hit the floor in a cloud of dust. She took a steadying breath and picked it up. “I know she's your best friend, but both Poe and I want you to be happy and careful around him. You think it's funny, I get that, but do you really think you can be friends with someone who constantly insults you?”

 

“It's called banter.” She held out the book to him, but still avoided looking at his face.

 

“No,” He took it from her with more force than strictly necessary. “What we usually have is banter. Poe and Rose trying to one up and trash talk each other in monopoly is banter.”

 

She stood back up. “Okay, I'm done with this conversation. I don't know why I even told you about this.”

 

“Peanut, you know I want the best for you. I prioritise your happiness. No, look at me, I'm serious.” She met his gaze reluctantly. “Fine, you want to try and change him or whatever. You want to be his friend. Do whatever you want. But if he ever makes you unhappy again…”

 

“Yeah, I know, you'll beat him up or something.”

 

“Hell no, I'm too scrawny. You've seen how buff he is. I'll get some of Poe’s mates to do it.”

 

It startled a laugh out of her, which she tried to pass off as a cough. “Okay. So you're not actually angry?”

 

“Just disappointed.” He smiled, giving her a gentle punch on the arm. “As long as I don't have to bail you out, do whatever you want. Promise me you'll think about what I've said though.”

 

“Ugh, promise,” She smiled, though it didn't come without an exasperated roll of her eyes. “You'll see you're wrong soon enough.”

 

“Maybe he'll surprise me. Maybe he won't. All in good time.” He pulled away and took both her hands in his own imploring. “Rey,” He said, his tone more serious and subdued than it had been earlier.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Love you.”

 

“Love you too. Even though you're annoying.”

 

“You just had to ruin the moment, didn't you?” He grinned and pulled her into a quick hug. She laughed and hugged him back. “Anyway, Poe’s gonna be wondering where I am. It's quarter past and I said I'd meet him at twelve. Catch up with you more on the phone later?”

 

“Sure, talk to you then.” She nodded and let him go. With a yawn she wandered back out to her set up study table, the one that had basically been claimed by her and Ben as theirs.

 

Her usual stack of boring books lay on the table, alongside a pad of writing paper and a collection of pens scattered across the wooden surface. It hadn't been long since the last essay she'd written, which made staring at the blank page in front of her even worse. She gave up after around five minutes and grabbed her phone.

 

_Rey:_

_I hate my life_

 

_Ben:_

_Funny. I hate your life too._

 

_Rey:_

_another fucking essay_

_this is the worst_

 

_Ben:_

_Is that your way of asking me very subtly for help?_

 

_Rey:_

_mayyyybe…_

 

_Ben:_

_Just so you know, I let out an audible sigh._

 

_Rey:_

_pretty please?? :)_

 

_Ben:_

_Fine. Be there in ten._

 

_Rey:_

_THANK UUUU_

 

Those ten minutes ended up being excruciatingly long. She tried to read through the books on the history of the sonnet in front of her, but soon discovered that (as she had predicted) they weren't exactly light reading. The text was impossibly small, the paragraphs unbearably dull. She wanted nothing more than to go outside and have fun; fulfill the procrastinate side of her. Prior experience held her back, though. The all nighters with Ben had steered her away from that path for a long time.

 

“I brought coffee.”

 

She looked up to see Ben holding two takeaway cups in his hand, his hair messy and shirt crumpled. “You have literally saved my life.”

 

“I know. You like the vanilla latte, right?” He set it down in front of her and then pulled up a chair.

 

“Yeah, I do. How'd you remember that?” She surveyed him closely. He simply shrugged in response.

 

“So, I'm here to ghostwrite your essay and let you take all the credit again.” He stretched out, crossing his legs loosely at the ankles and resting his hands behind his head. “What's today's topic?”

 

“It's something about the evolution of sonnets throughout history.” She gestured towards her stack of books. “I tried researching but it made me want to die even more than usual so I stopped.”

 

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” He quoted off the top of his head. “That kinda stuff?”

 

“Yep, the whole eight lines then a volta then six lines thing and all the different rhyme schemes. I don't know why I take English at this point. It's always horrendous.” She sighed, resting her head in her hands, elbows on the table. He flicked her with a pen, hard.

 

“You don't have time to mope. Do the work.” He said. Stifling her annoyance because it was the whole reason she asked him to come, she bit her tongue and set pen to paper. “There has been a wide range of changes made to the sonnet form over the past hundreds of years… Yeah, no shit. That's why they asked you to write an essay on it.”

 

“Well then, Mr Smartass, what's a better opening sentence?” She snapped despite herself, dropping the pen on the paper to look up at him grumpily. “If you're gonna be so nitpicky then fix it.”

 

“Calm down. And I would start by getting straight to the point rather than waffling. If you waffle, then whoever is marking it will deduct marks. Begin strong. For example, the most significant change in sonnet form occurred in this year and was a result of that. Obviously, fill in the this and that with the actual facts.” He instructed. She scrunched up the old piece of paper into a ball and chucked it into the bin before taking out a new sheet and writing his suggestion.

 

“Okay, done. Now what?”

 

“I'm not going to do everything for you. Use your brain, if you even have one.” He snorted and took a sip of his black coffee.

 

“Fine. I'll give an example.” She announced. When he didn't step in to correct her, she wrote that part of her essay down on the page.

 

They worked in this way for several hours, bouncing ideas off each other until they formed a coherent construct which she then wrote down and analysed carefully. All in all, they made a pretty good team.

 

“I wish essays were joint projects.” She grumbled while finishing up her conclusion. “They'd at least be slightly less painful.”

 

“It's life, sweetheart.” He replied matter of factly.

 

“Oh god, please don't start calling me that again. I'm in possibly the worst mood already.” She groaned, placing her head on the desk. “It's so annoying.”

 

“I know. That's why I do it.” He adjusted the way he was sat so that he was properly on the chair and turned acutely in her direction. “I like annoying you. It's very easy. Brings out your best side.”

 

“Piss off.” She half covered her ears and kicked him under the table.

 

“Absolutely charming.” She could sense his smirk even though she couldn't see him. “Anyway, get back to work.”

 

“I can't bring myself to do it.” She lifted her head and looked at the half finished conclusion, which she had stopped writing midword. “I hate this so much.”

 

“Why take English if you hate it? It makes no sense. Just drop it.” He said as though it were that simple.

 

“Because it's the most open choice for careers. And… Finn said it'd be easy. I also can't afford to drop it now.” She complained. “I wish I hadn't done this to myself.”

 

“You're almost done. Don't be a fucking idiot and give up now.” Ben took his phone out of his pocket and leant back in his chair, swinging and playing a puzzle game on it.

 

“Ugh. But I am the biggest fucking idiot there ever was. Don't shame me.” She forced the pen across the page, the words awkward and chunky and disjointed.

 

“We'll go and do something nice afterwards. Go book shopping to find so etching fun to read for whatever.” He suggested without looking up from his phone.

 

She would never admit it, but that perked her up enough to finish the essay in the next ten minutes. It certainly wasn't her best work, but it was surprising good for being written in the middle of a heatwave that made even sitting still uncomfortable. “Done.” She said with great relish, putting the cap back on the pen and stretching out her sore and cramped muscles.

 

He collected up their empty coffee cups in one swoop and them threw them perfectly into the bin. “To the bookshop it is.”

 

He proceeded to put his phone back in his pocket, attempt to tame some of his hair, and then walk straight out of the library.

 

She scrambled to shove all of her stuff in her bag, knowing how small the likelihood of Ben waiting for her was. “Ugh, I hate you,” She said more to herself than him, stressful pulling the zips shut on her bag. Once ready, she slung it over her shoulder and hurried to catch up to him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter but quickly updated chapter to make up for the fact that I'm useless ;)  
> It will hopefully be followed by a long chapter in a couple days!  
> \- bri xx

The door to the bookshop opened with a light ring from a bell, pleasant and welcoming. It was a hidden gem, between two dusty alleys that she didn't even know existed in the city. The smell of new and old books overwhelmed her senses in a good way. She took the leather jacket she was wearing off and draped it over her arm, making a beeline for the classics section. Ben sighed audibly but followed her a few steps behind. She sorted through the various novels, both long and short, and emerged with a hardback Jane Austen. Triumphantly, she placed it in his hands.

 

“Pride and Prejudice?” He said with clear distaste, scrunching his nose as he read the blurb. “Do you seriously think I'll enjoy a romance novel?”

 

“Who knows, it might revive that cold, dead heart of yours,” She turned back to the shelves of books, looking for the next book to add to her recommended book pile for him, adjusting the messy bun on her head. 

 

He tutted and folded his arms, tapping his foot. “Just find something that's actually good already.”

 

“Stop brooding edgily and I might think about it.” She replied, searching through the classic plays and running her finger across the spines. “Aha! An Inspector Calls and also the Scottish play.”

 

“Just call it Macbeth.” He took the texts from her and added it to the stack. “I knew you were actually thick, but not thick enough to be superstitious about that. You're not even in theatre.”

 

“Maybe the reason your life is such a mess is because you think like that. Always err on the side of caution, Solo.” She crouched down to look at the bottom most shelf. “And by the way, I have worked in theatre in the past. My foster family made me join the drama club in high-school to help me make friends.”

 

“What roles did you play? Juliet?” He rolled his eyes. 

 

“No, we never did Romeo and Juliet. Although you would be the perfect Romeo. Always moping, loads of emotional baggage… it fits.”

 

“It most certainly does not.” He walked to a different section in the bookstore, leaving Rey to realise this a few minutes later and have to scour the entire ground floor for him. She soon moved the search upstairs, and found him by the poetry books.

 

“No more poetry after earlier. I might actually die.” She shook her head as be pressed the book into her hands. 

 

“If you're making me read Pride and Prejudice then I can make you read Paradise Lost.” He patted the heavy book in her hands. “It's actually quite beautiful.”

 

“Conventionally beautiful or your kind of beautiful?” She queried as she scan read the first page. 

 

He thought about it for a moment or two. “Both. The fact that it's so long and you have to suffer quite a bit to finish it is quite beautiful.”

 

“Fucking edgelord.” She muttered under her breath. 

 

“What was that, sweetheart?” He raised an eyebrow at her. 

 

“Nothing.” She smiled and pushed past him to get to the historical non fiction section. She added a biography of Cicero to his pile. “So I've got you four books so you can pick three more for me.”

 

“I'm probably only going to buy two. I don't have the time between all my work to read four books, as much as I may want to. Unlike you, I have a career.”

 

“Ben, sorry to break it to you, but a job as a professional dickhead doesn't exist yet.” She grinned.

 

“Ha ha. Very funny. Need I remind you who out of the two of us is the broke, indebted college student?” He responded with incredible apathy.

 

“Okay, don't come for my financial situation.” She laughed, hitting him in the shoulder with the copy of Paradise Lost in her hands. “You're the tortured artist!”

 

“Do I seem like the type to refuse to get a job unless it's to do with the recognition of my shirty artwork?” He folded his arms.

 

“Honestly, yes.”

 

“This isn't Rent, Rey. I'm not some Mark or Roger.” He leant against the bookshelves and gave her a look that showed how done he was. 

 

“I think you are. I'm the Joanne, you're the Mark. This is settled now.” She smiled up at him.

 

“Please stop talking.” He walked on past her to find another book for her pile. “Have you read The Odyssey?”

 

“No, actually. Don't tell my 9th grade classics teacher. He'd murder me for that confession.” She fiddled with the strap on her shoulder bag, laughing a little to herself. 

 

“Perfect. That's your second book, then.” He strolled off and then returned a minute later with a copy in his hands, placing it on her pile. 

 

“Jesus. You're not giving me any light reading, are you?” She complained about the weight of the books, setting them down on a nearby display and rubbing her arms. “Those are surprisingly heavy.”

 

“Don't be such a weakling.” He placed them on top of his own pile, holding them as though they weighed nothing. “They're not heavy at all.”

 

“Just because you bench press a ridiculous amount.” She gave him a look.

 

“Working out is a good way to release my anger.” He shrugged. “It's good motivation.”

 

“You must be angry a lot, then. What’ve you got, a twenty pack or something?” She gestured towards him. 

 

“Why? Want to see?” He raised an eyebrow. 

 

“No!” She spluttered, horrified. “Please don't take your shirt off in the middle of the bookstore.”

 

“You'd prefer it to be a private moment?”

 

“Oh, shut your fucking mouth.” Rey covered her face with her hands so she didn't have to look at him. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

 

“Sure you were.” He brushed past her towards the till, leaving a couple of books behind, true to his word. In her stages of recovering from whatever that situation was, he paid for the books and put them into his backpack, receipt and all. “Come on. We should go.”

 

“I'd rather just die here surrounded by what I love, thanks.”

 

“You're more melodramatic than Hux.” He stood in front of her, waiting for her to lower her hands.

 

“God, don't speak that name around me. I haven't recovered from the bowling yet.” She eventually did lower her hands, less mortified after the few minutes she had to get a grip. “Anyway, shouldn't we go and pay?”

 

“Already done. They're in my backpack.” He unzipped it and showed her. 

 

“You paid without me?” She sighed. “Let me pay you back, one minute.”

 

She sorted through the various miscellaneous items in her bag for her purse. 

 

“Don't bother. This is me making up for all the coffees you've bought me.” He zipped up his bag. “Ready to go?”

 

“Where to?” She asked, with a look of slight confusion. 

 

“My place. Coffee is cheaper at home.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick PSA:  
> I'm making this fic part of a new series I've planned  
> Hopefully I'll be able to get the first chapter of the new fic up soon, so stay tuned ;)  
> I'll continue working on this one too, so don't worry  
> \- bri xx

“Don't bother taking your shoes off, the floor’s easy enough to clean.” He held open the door to his apartment for her. “Mind Hux’s stuff. I would be surprised if contact with it would make you diseased.”

 

Ben's apartment didn't look how she'd imagined it would at all. Instead of black walls and grungy decorations, the space was wide, white and open, with the random pot plant in every other corner. It was also immaculate, the marble tabletops polished to near perfection.

 

“Well. This is unexpected.” She turned on the spot in the lounge area, looking around at the pieces of art hung on the walls that she assumed were his. The black sofa had a couple of white fluffy cushions on it. “This kinda contradicts your whole bad boy vibe.”

 

Ben closed the door and headed to the open kitchen, turning on the coffee machine. While waiting for it to start up, he raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you going to sit down or just loiter in the middle of the room?”

 

“I don't want to ruin the neatness of this place.” She sat down cautiously, moving the cushion out of the way. “I never pictured you being a neat person. Please tell me this is just for show and your bedroom is a mess,”

 

He placed two mugs under the machine and pressed a few buttons to make them both coffee. “It's neat too. My studio is messy.”

 

“You have a studio? That's so cool. Is it here or do you rent it from somewhere outside?” She asked curiously. Since finding out that Ben was an artist, she'd really wanted to see some of the things he'd produced. She knew it was a mix of surrealism and portraiture, and knowing Ben it would probably be brilliant.

 

“Rent it out.” He replied, and she thought his voice sounded a bit strained as he turned away and put sugar into her mug. Confused by this change in behaviour, she watched him carefully.

 

“Can I see some of your stuff sometime?” She fiddled with the hem of her dress. “I'd love to see your work.”

 

His movements seemed to be almost mechanical as he stirred the drinks. “There's a sketchbook on the coffee table.”

 

She picked it up and flicked through it. Comprising of charcoal drawings of locations she recognised from around town and occasionally people, she thought they were all amazing. “Woah. I never knew you were this good. I mean, I knew you weren't awful, but this is honestly great.”

 

“Thank you.” He set down her mug on a coaster in front of her and then sat down. “They're all at least a year old though.”

 

“Still really cool. I wish I was this talented.”

 

“If you were you wouldn't need my help in the library.” He took a long sip from his black coffee, appearing more relaxed again. “So do you really?”

 

“Oh, I guarantee I would still need help. But I like our friendship, so if it meant giving up that it'd be a no from me.” She shrugged slightly, swirling around the drink in her mug and then taking a sip herself.

 

“You still call it friendship despite all the bullying we make each other endure?”

 

“Eugh, stop. You sound like Finn.” She pulled a face and put her mug back down, resting her hands in her lap. “And yes I do, because it's all in good humour. I like the fact that we can bully each other and there are no hard feelings. You get me on my level.”

 

“Well then. I guess there are perks to us being friends. Like you buying me coffee.” He considered, sounding as though he had really thought this out. “But that's about it.”

 

“Piss off.” She grinned up at him. “You know that there are loads of benefits to this. You get entertainment from me, we do fun and sometimes dumb stuff together, et cetera. Also, I give you more reason to dislike Hux.”

 

“Only parts of that are true. I hate Hux enough already.” He replied almost boredly.

 

“How do you guys know each other, anyway?” She frowned, brushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. “You don't seem like you'd ever choose to interact.”

 

He paused midway through raising his cup back up to his lips. “We don't.”

 

“Are you colleagues or something?” Confused by his reactions, she tried to grill him for information.

 

“You could say that. Have you forgiven me for the bowling incident yet?” He asked, meeting her gaze.

 

More than slightly annoyed that he was slowly changing the subject, she tried to give an answer that was neither here nor there. “Depends how much Hux murdered you for it.”

 

“Believe me, he did.” He snorted, setting his finished coffee cup on the table. “Didn't hear the end of it for weeks.”

 

“You deserve it.” She smirked at him.

 

“Fuck off. I know you enjoyed it.” He rolled his eyes and rested his legs on the table. “And you'd do it again in a heartbeat.”

 

“That may be true,” She tried to justify it, failing rather miserably. “But still. I have half forgiven you.”

 

“I suppose that's better than no forgiveness at all. Not that I care either way.” He picked white fluff off his jacket.

 

“Ben, you can drop the whole ‘I don't care about nor trust anyone but myself because I have deeply rooted emotional issues’ act. I know you're lovely, really. Even if you do everything in your power to avoid appearing that way.” She sighed deeply, kicking him lightly. “And no, I know what you're gonna say. You're not just a mean person. It's a shit defense mechanism you've created.”

 

“I didn't know me inviting you round for coffee was going to result in a full psychological profiling from you.” He grumbled.

 

“What can I say, I like surprising you.” She smiled sweetly at him. His clear annoyance made her want to laugh, but she held it back. “So. Can I see some of your recent work?”

 

“Do you have eyes?” He gave her a look that screamed smartass.

 

“Literally die.” It was her turn to groan; she tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling as if hoping patience would come.

 

“Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer, sweetheart. It's how the world works.” He stretched out his arms and rested them on the back of the sofa.

 

“How _your_ world works, maybe. No one else's is like that.” She looked back at him and saw he had a huge smirk on his face. “I was asking if there were any exhibitions coming up that I could go to. To support your amazing career or whatever.”

 

“Funnily enough,” He took a piece of scrap paper off the table and handed it to her.

 

**10 Aug 10am -?**

**First Order Art Show**

**Create fliers. Ask S for more details.**

 

“Woah, your art is being displayed later this week? I am so coming along to see it.” She took out her phone and added it to her calendar. “Is there any way in which I can help out with advertising? I'm shit at graphic design but I could try and spread the word. Oh, we could ask Leia to put up a sign in the library!”

 

Ben noticeably stiffened.

 

“What?” She asked carefully, still worried by how weird his behaviour had been during that day.

 

“I don't want my mother or father to come.” He said firmly.

 

“But wouldn't it be a good way to show them your successful career in art?” She gave him a look of incredulity. “I'm sure it would help out your disagreements,”

 

“No.” He replied simply. “And I'm not going to change my mind so don't waste your breath trying.”

 

“Right.” She awkwardly fiddled with the loose strands of hair from her bun, desperately trying to come up with a way to dispel the tense atmosphere that now surrounded them. “I guess the biggest question now is what the dress code is. Do I need to look fancy? Do you know how long it took me to get ready for the charity ball? It also cost a lot more than I care to admit.”

 

Relieved by her change of subject, he shrugged slightly. “I guess smart casual. So a summer dress will probably be fine. Of course, my boss is going to force me into another fucking tux so I can look ‘respectable and like a good investment’ to anyone who decides for some reason to buy my art or commission me.”

 

“You don't like your boss?” She cautioned. He looked uncomfortable again, leading her to draw the conclusion that it was his work that was bothering him. “Sorry, stupid question. Why don't you like them?”

 

“He's not the best. The kind of guy who thinks he knows everything and if things don't go as precisely as planned he flips.” He vaguely described, looking ahead instead of at her as he spoke.

 

“He sounds like a dick. Why work with him if he's that awful?” She replied. From what he'd told her, it made sense that he would hate his boss. She would hate him too, as people like that had often turned out to be bad news in her experience. “If I were you, I'd quit.”

 

“Necessity keeps me there. God, I wish I could leave sometimes. But I get my studio and exposure, and he gets a fifty percent cut out of my sales. It's a mutual agreement, albeit an absolutely shit one.” He moved his arms from the back of the sofa to by his sides, leaning back into the sofa. “And if I quit it would just be further proof to my parents that nothing I do will ever amount to anything, I'm a fucking poor excuse for a son, and I should just listen to what they say because they're right all the time.”

 

“Jesus, Ben.” She breathed, filled with concern for him that she had never truly felt before. She'd never realised that his home and work life took this much of a toll on him because he was so good at being effortlessly cool and rude to the point of deflecting all of her criticism. It even made her feel bad about when shed exploded at him at the end of the ball for not understanding her situation, but she was beginning to realise now that it was the other way around. Having no idea how to make the situation better, she let the silence happen.

 

Ben ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair, still avoiding eye contact with her in favour of the wall in front of them. When his hand returned to by his side, she gently placed her own on top. Although startled (expressed through the change in his breathing), he still refused to look at her.

 

“I know what it's like.” She said softly, trying to reach him through the emotional blockade he'd just placed between them. “Believe me, I've been through shit too. I guess what I'm saying is if you ever want to talk I'll listen.”

 

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. “I'm fine. Tired.”

 

“You don't have to lie to me. Come on, we trust each other. We wouldn't bully each other and break into places together if we didn't. If you don't want to talk now that's totally fine. Just please, please don't try and bottle up your emotions. I don't like seeing you in pain.”

 

“Okay. I'm awful. Work is a bitch, my family are pressuring me to get a real job again, I have no one talk to except you and that's sad.” He said flatly, so easily that she could tell he wasn't completely speaking everything on his mind. “There.”

 

“Okay. What can I do to help?” She asked, keeping her hand on his as a grounding source of comfort, so she hoped.

 

“Honestly?”

 

“Honestly.” She confirmed.

 

“I want to be alone for a bit. Could you leave?” He said bluntly, and it stung just a little. Though she knew it wasn't his intention to make her feel useless, it still made her partially downhearted.

 

“Yeah, of course. Anything to help you out.” She gathered her things up, her bag slung over her shoulder. She collected the books he'd recommended for her from the pile, and, though he'd earlier told her not to, left enough change to cover how much it had cost him.

**×××**

A few hours later, alone in her apartment and sprawled across the old sofa, Rey had got through a sizeable amount of Paradise Lost. It was a slightly painful experience, but made better by researching the modern english summary. Her lines of communication with Ben had improved, in that he wasn't leaving her on read and replying to some of the things she sent. She hoped dearly that this meant he was in a better heads pace, or at least he now found her a suitable distraction.

 

_Rey:_

_new fave bit_

_“all is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield.”_

_actually have no idea wht it means but it sounds edgy so_

 

_Ben:_

_You know that I chose Paradise Lost specifically so that you would try to understand it, helping you out with your studies in the long run?_

 

_Rey:_

_ok prof solo_

_didn't realise u were my new teacher sir_

 

_Ben:_

_I am sacrificing my funds to fuel your learning. Be appreciative._

 

_Rey:_

_wht funds m8_

 

_Ben:_

_What do you mean? You saw I spent my own money on those books._

 

_Rey:_

_check the top of the coffee machine ;)_

 

_Ben:_

_Why is it that everything you do makes me audibly sigh, Rey?_

_I don't want your money._

 

_Rey:_

_well i'm not taking it back so fight me_

 

_Ben:_

_You are so stubborn._

 

_Rey:_

_stubborn is my middle name_

 

_Ben:_

_Rey Stubborn…?_

 

_Rey:_

_rey stubborn nobody_

_last names are for losers_

 

_Ben:_

_Everyone has a surname. Is everyone a loser?_

 

_Rey:_

_everyone except me yes_

 

_Ben:_

_[Image Attached]_

 

_Rey:_

_prof solo did u just send a picture of u flipping me off_

_the audacity_

_the disrespect_

 

_Ben:_

_I won't reply until you take back the Professor thing._

 

_Rey:_

_you will wait until the end of time_

 

She stifled her laugh with the back of her hand, turning her phone off after sending that message. She chucked it onto the seat next to her and then got up, deciding to raid her wardrobe for a suitable outfit to wear for his art show. It proved rather difficult, as he had already seen most of the dresses. She rifled through the dresses hanger by hanger until she found one she supposed would be acceptable.

 

Wardrobe really wasn't her forte.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop it's another late update but that's because we're getting into the true essence of the plot and I wanna do this justice  
> Sorry this took so long, I've also had to split this over 2 chapters  
> \- brie xx

Her feet hurt. In fact, they killed.

 

Walking up the pavements that lead to the location of Ben's art show, she was seriously reconsidering her decision to let Rose pressure her into wearing the tallest pair of stilettos she owned. She hadn't even been walking for more than fifteen minutes and had already had many close moments of disaster, from nearly tripping over in the middle of crossing the road to stumbling and almost going over her ankle more than once. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself to keep herself warm against the chill morning air, tight around the semi-low neckline of the dress she had selected for the occasion. It would no doubt benefit her in the hotter hours of the day, but as the sun was just warming up to its later burning rays it felt thin and inappropriate.

 

She internally cursed herself for not researching just how long the journey across town would take on foot, glancing at her watch to see that she had only five minutes until the time she had promised Ben she'd be there to help him set up. The art studios were certainly hard to find, hidden between two tall warehouses and through a more than dodgy alleyway. It made her wonder how Ben had even been employed there in the first place; he surely couldn't have walked past it and gone in, intrigued, to request a job. It amplified the whole dodgy atmosphere around his profession. Surely artists didn't normally hate their bosses with a burning passion, also hate their parents, and have a strange meltdown when asked about their recent works?

 

But what did she know? She was a broke college student without family nor talent, in no way an artist herself. She was probably overthinking the entire situation.

 

She took the turn down the dingy alleyway, feeling more than a little out of place amongst the trash spilling out of wheelie bins and the smell of alcohol making her nose wrinkle in disgust. Never a heavy drinker herself, (in fact, she usually avoided alcohol like the plague) the rancid and painful smell was an even worse assault upon her senses.

 

She quickened her pace, determined not to be late, and checked the directions on her phone.

 

_Ben:_

_It's the second left from the alley and then down the road to the end. Afterwards, take the right and the studios will be there._

 

_Rey:_

_omw_

_this place is rank btw_

 

She followed what Ben had told her, walking past the grimy warehouse entranced and through a few private car parks, until she reached a rather out of place white door with a plaque on it.

 

**No. 3**

**The First Order**

**Studios 1-6**

 

Assuming this was the place, she nervously rang the bell and rocked back on her heels. The building was tall and intimidating, rising high enough to cut through the skyline and making it appear greyscale. An assistant came to answer the door and directed her up the metal stairs to the floor she needed. The metal handrail was cold and unwelcoming, the door handle even more so as she opened it.

 

“Ben,” Her face lit up with a smile and her heart filled with warmth as she walked into the exhibition room, making her way towards him to give him a hug. He surprisingly smiled back, seeming to be in good spirits, and allowed the hug to happen without pushing her away. However, after the three-second mark, he was distinctly more uncomfortable looking. Some things never changed.

 

“Rey. Sweetheart.” He managed to extract himself from her grip, dusting down his suit. She noticed that his hair was nowhere near as messy as usual, his blood orange tie straight, and his shirt had some fancy cufflinks on them in a symbol of what she assumed was the logo of the company he worked for.

 

She bristled at the nickname as per usual, her cheeks a light rose. “You're very business-like.”

 

“Good impressions, remember.” He tugged on the sleeves of his suit, trying to keep it pristine. “The more marketable I am, the better.”

 

“What bullshit.” She gave him a jovial smile, breaking the subtle tension between them. “So. This is your work. Care to give me the guided tour?”

 

“If you insist. I know you'll only give me a sad, desperate and longing look otherwise until you guilt trip me into giving in anyway.” He strode towards the canvases hung on the white walls by the entrance, checking his expensive watch as he did so. With a small smile to herself, Rey recognised it as the one he'd been wearing the first time they'd met. It made her feel strangely nostalgic to think about that time two months ago at the beginning of summer, although she certainly didn't miss just how prickly he'd been towards her initially.

 

“When have I ever done anything like that?” She replied indignantly, more than a little offended. “That is not my style.”

 

“The essays, the picnic, coffee,” He began to count off each instance on his fingers, growing increasingly louder as she tried to protest. “The gardens at the ball,”

 

“Okay, okay, I get it.” She grumbled, eventually able to drown him out. Turning towards the art on the wall, she began to examine the linework closely. She heard him snicker behind her. “What?”

 

“You're doing it now.” He stated, raising an eyebrow. However, this typical look was made atypical by the smirk plastered across his face.

 

“What? I'm not!” She exclaimed, facing him again with more indignance than before. “That is so not true!”

 

“Thanks for perfectly proving my point,” He placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair. Startled into silence, she looked up at him with her mouth slightly open. “This piece I created a few months ago after I was on the subway. I saw an old woman sat by herself looking out of the window and a teenage girl a few rows in front. It got me thinking about how the passage of time affects how we view the world, from looking at what's outside and the bigger picture to living in the moment for the finer details. I illustrated this by using broader and looser paint strokes for the background with the woman, creating an abstraction. This contrasts the girl and her friend in the foreground who have a lot more detail.”

 

He seemed to have moved on from the ruffling of hair rather quickly which came as a surprise. It was oddly affectionate coming from him, considering he was never the one to initiate hugs or any form of physical contact between them. Perhaps this meant he was warming up to their friendship and they had a new level of trust. She really hoped this was the case.

 

“I like the colours.” She commented simply. He waited for her to continue so she scrambled for something more eloquent to say. “The sunset colours remind me of summer nights and the end to good times, but also the beginning to new ones. Like, for the old woman it's the end of another day, but to the girl, it's the beginning of a new one. Does that make sense?”

 

“In one way or another. I'm glad you managed to understand the colour story I was aiming for. The general theme of my show today is perspective, so prepare for more contrast and other shit. I've got to try and remember some of this stuff you make up. It'll be good to say to my clients.” He led her towards a charcoal drawing of a row of apartment blocks she recognised from around the town.

 

“Very grey. Were you going for the kind of sad drab vibe with it or have I just accidentally insulted you?” Her tone shifted from appreciative to worried towards the end, as the last thing she wanted to do was shit on his artwork the one day it mattered most. “What I mean is,” She hastened to clarify, “It shows how someone can have a very black and white perspective on the world. It also shows the industrial structure of the buildings. I really do like it.”

 

He gave her an amused look.

 

“I've really fucked up now, haven't I?” She sighed, unable to create a more insightful response than what she had already given.

 

“No, you haven't. I like watching you struggle to say nice things.” He said wryly, resulting in her hitting him in the arm. “Go explore. It's better for you to find something that stands out to you and then have me explain it.”

 

She did as he suggested, stopping in front of a pencil sketch hidden near the window. She looked at it, then glanced back at Ben who was standing in the centre of the room aimlessly. “Ben?”

 

“Yes?” He walked over immediately, joining her side at the portrait.

 

“You drew… Me?” She looked at the pencil portrait of herself poring over a book, one side of her tucked behind her ear and her hand resting in her other cheek. The linework was delicate and flow, contrasting what she'd seen of his other work that involved harsh contrast and aggressive pencil lines. It was unexpectedly gentle, from the soft lighting to the expression of concentration on her face.

 

“Oh, you found it.” He stuck his hands into his trouser pockets. “Yeah. That was from last month when we were studying together.”

 

“It's really cool. Even if it is a little weird to see me hung up on a wall.”She smiled up at him sweetly, not the usual sarcastic sweet but a legitimate one of thanks and flattery. “I didn't even notice you were drawing me on that day, clearly.”

 

“I was lacking inspiration.” He shrugged it off, leaning against the wall by the portrait. “And you were there.”

 

“Well, I'm glad you find me inspiring,” She said a little more mischievously, dipping into the fun teasing part of their friendship and meeting his gaze. The look they exchanged was different from their usual, with undertones from him that she couldn't quite decipher.

 

The door opened with a loud creak, startling them both. Ben handled it with the most grace, standing up straight and taking his hands out of his pockets. Rey jumped and then hastily regained her composure, trying to act as if it hadn't affected her at all.

 

The man that walked in wore a perfectly tailored suit, held his head high, and was around mid-forties. The epitome of business and money, he walked directly towards the two of them. Once he was up close, it was more obvious how much taller than the both of him he was. He held out his hand, which she noticed was prematurely wrinkled and scared, and Ben took it, giving a firm handshake.

 

“Ren.” The older man greeted him with a strange coldness that set Rey slightly on edge. Something seemed off, although she wasn't yet sure what it was.

 

“Snoke.” Ben replied, not looking as confident as he usually did.

 

“Who's this?” Snoke turned his attention to Rey, and she felt her skin crawl as his beady eyes searched hers. “We haven't had the pleasure of meeting before. You're not one of Kylo’s family, are you?”

 

“No, I'm Rey. His friend.” She replied awkwardly, self consciously smoothing out her dress. Compared to him she felt completely underdressed.

 

“James Snoke. CEO of The First Order.” He didn't hold out his hand for Rey to shake, for which she was immensely thankful. The number of weird vibes she got from him made her uneasy.

 

“Nice to meet you.” She replied for the sake of politeness, dipping her head slightly.

 

“I assume you're here to help Ren set up. I'll leave you two to it.” He gave them both an authoritative stare and then left almost as quickly as he had appeared.

 

When she felt it was safe enough to speak again, she looked up at Ben. “Well, that wasn't sketchy as shit. He gives me the creeps. Look, I've got goosebumps.” She held out her arm for him to see.

 

“He has that effect on people.” His eyes were steely, his expression hardened and posture more rigid than before.

 

“And what's with this Kylo and Ren business?” She asked, placing her hands on her hips. “You said it was just a nickname between friends. But no tea no shade, I haven't seen a single one of these friends you claim to have. The only people I've heard call you Ren are Hux and Snoke, both of whom you claim to hate. So what's actually going on?”

 

“Nothing. It's my pseudonym for my art.” He responded, expression deadpan.

 

“I don't believe that.”

 

“How tragic. I really, really care.”

 

They stared each other down for a minute, both refusing to back down. She wanted to find the truth behind this situation, he to hide it from her for reasons he wouldn't say.

 

The clock above the door struck ten, and with it, the door was propped open by one of the assistants from downstairs. “Mr Ren, the clients are making their way upstairs.”

 

“Thank you,” He nodded towards the assistant curtly.

 

“Sorry for prying.” She said awkwardly, knowing that having this hanging over them was the last thing he needed when it was his exhibition. “I'll stay out of it.”

 

“That would be appreciated. Can you be in charge of refreshments? It's a fucking dull job, I know, but Snoke managed to forget to hire someone. Incompetent git.” He passed her a bottle of champagne from inside a cabinet and a few glasses. She popped the cork and poured them both a glass, knowing they needed it to get through everything. “Cheers.”

 

“Cheers.” She echoed and took a long sip before setting her glass down and pouring the champagne out into the guest glasses. “Why do I feel like we'll need something stronger to survive this?”

 

“Because you're right. This will be hell.” He finished his glass in one sip and she hastened to refill it.

 

“Well, good luck.” She wished him as she heard the sound of voices and footsteps coming up the stairs. “Hope you'll become a millionaire or something.”

 

He gave her a fleeting smile, going to greet the guests. As they came through the doors, she and Ben had devised a system of greet, talk, smile, and give the drink that was proving rather effective. Once the first wave of people had subdued and only the odd person was arriving, Rey positioned herself as door duty and Ben went around talking to his clients. She watched their interactions, the nods between them and the looks of contemplation as he put on his best manners for the show. She even witnessed a few handshakes and business card exchanges. It seemed all was going well.

 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” A slightly gruff voice said, taking a glass of champagne from her set up. The man bristled past her in his oversized coat that he must have been boiling in considering the summer weather that had broken outside.

 

“You're welcome?” She tried, but the man had already joined the crowd.

 

Thinking nothing more of it, she continued to smile and greet the other clients, ending up striking a conversation with a woman in her mid-fifties who was looking for inspiration for an upcoming art show.

 

“Yes, and these pictures would be a fine stimulus for our designers to work with. Imagine the couture that could come out of that painting.” The woman nodded towards a seascape.

 

“It would be very beautiful.” Rey agreed, feeling increasingly more like the wingwoman to Ben's career. “Mr Ren has a talent for capturing movement that would be interesting shown with fabric.”

 

“Yes, yes. A splendid point, my dear. If you'll excuse me, I'll go and give him my offer.”

 

She let the woman go and leant tiredly against the wall, holding back a yawn.

 

“What are you doing here?” She heard Ben's voice ring out through the room, which quickly cut an end to her tiredness. She stood up, alert, and scanned the room to see what was going on.

 

The man in the coat that had brushed past her was talking to Ben, one hand on his arm and a gentle, almost sad expression in his face. Rey made a beeline for them apprehensively, through the displays and cabinets. She felt bad about abandoning her post, but at the same time, Ben looked like he needed support. She wasn’t sure what the situation was; perhaps she shouldn’t involve herself? She paused as the mass of clients walked around her, muttering ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s. Steeling herself, she adjusted her dress and then walked up to them.

 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Ben shook off the man’s hand.

 

"Kid, it's been years. Give your old man the time of day."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I just wanted to say thank you all SO MUCH for your comments. Seriously, reading them makes my day. It's lovely to know that people actually like the stuff I create! :)  
> \- brie xx

“No. Leave. I don't want to talk to you or mother.” 

 

Rey watched the confrontation between Ben and his dad from what she hoped was a safe enough distance. Waiting to intervene, she listened closely to try and help her resolve the conflict between them. The last thing Ben needed was for him to lose his temper in the middle of the art show in front of loads of clients, and as his friend she would do anything to stop it. 

 

“Your mother isn't here. It's been years, Ben. No calls. No letters.” Han looked at his son sadly, eyes full of years of regret and woe. It made Rey’s heart hurt to hear the pain in his voice made from the years of his estranged relationship with Ben. It hurt even more that she knew how badly it had effected Ben as well.

 

“Perhaps there's good reason for that.” Ben took a step back, placing more distance between the two of them. Hovering at the side and pretending she wasn't eavesdropping, Rey weighed the consequences of interfering. On one hand, it might resolve something. On another hand, she would make it a hell of a lot worse. 

 

“Excuse me,” A man in a posh business suit brushed past her, nearly making her drop the tray of drinks she'd brought with her as an excuse to be standing where she was. On his way past he took a glass before loudly starting a conversation next to her. 

 

Now unable to hear what was going down between Ben and his father, she began to make her way around the crowds of people, dodging people as they closed in for conversation and simply giving them a smile and a tilt of the tray. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the conversation between the two men became more heated (mostly on Ben's side) and felt completely helpless to it. 

 

“No. You don't understand and you never have and never will.” Ben pointed a finger at his father, hands shaking with suppressed anger. She picked up the pace. “Stay out of my business. You were never interested before.”

 

“Would you like a drink?” Rey put in her best smile, sliding in between the two if them and holding the tray towards Han. Although she couldn't see him, she could sense Ben's anger growing. “It's a fine vintage champagne.”

 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Han took the glass and downed it in one, placing it back on her tray when empty. 

 

“You're welcome.” She inclined her head towards him. 

 

“Rey.” Ben's voice was hard and monotonous. 

 

“Yes?” She turned to face him, keeping the easy smile on her face although she could sense that something about the atmosphere between them was off. His stony expression did not help the doubt and worry now coursing through her mind, and she looked away from meeting his gaze directly. “Want a drink?”

 

“No. I can't think of anything I'd like less right now.” The volume of his voice increased on the final word of his sentence, he struggled to reign it back in for the sake of being presentable. 

 

“Oh.  _ Ouch! _ ”

 

He placed his hand on the small if her back, navigating her forwards with more force than necessary. Han began to protest, but Ben ignored him and moved his hand to tight around her waist. The forcefulness of his movements confused her and made her own jerky; in fear of dropping the drinks she held she left them on top of a white display pillar. 

 

“What are you--?”

 

“Wait.” With his free hand he pushed upon a side door to reveal a maintenance staircase. He led her inside and then closed the door behind them.

 

She pried herself away from him, rubbing the spot on her waist he had held a little too tight. In the dim light his face was all shadows and harsh lines, nothing like the Ben she knew. “What the hell is this about?”

 

“You know exactly why I'm angry at you.”

 

A spider wove its web above his head, slowly spiralling amongst the dusty corners of the metal railings she leant back against. 

 

“No, actually, I haven't got a fucking clue.” Folding her arms, she risked a look up to meet his gaze. It was cold and hostile. 

 

“Well, I'll spell it out for you. Why the fuck did you invite my father to this art show after I specifically told you not to? I said no family. And you betrayed my fucking trust, and had the nerve to come up to us smiling with your fucking vintage champagne acting all sunshine and rainbows.” He said angrily, punctuating every sentence clearly. “So, Rey, that's why the fuck I'm angry.”

 

His accusation startled her badly, so much so that she spent the first few seconds afterwards trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. This didn't work in her favour, as when she began to try and explain he looked as though his mind was already set on murdering her. “Ben, you know I'd never do anything--”

 

“You keep sticking your nose right into my personal business. You don't know anything that's going on with my family, so stop trying to fix whatever the fuck you think is wrong. If anything, you've just ruined everything more. Does a promise mean nothing to you? You can't try and play the hero in my life, wave a magic wand and suddenly make me want to associate myself with my mother and father again.” He continued, each new word like a stab in the heart although she knew that she wasn't in the wrong. Even though she hadn't done the things he thought she had, the part about heroism was so cruel and true that it tore her apart. 

 

“I swear I didn't - -” It felt as though the floor had been removed from under her feet, her stomach as though she had missed a step on the stairs, her back as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over it. “Ben, listen, I didn't invite him. Why would I?”

 

“Because you've said yourself that you wanted to invite them. I can't believe you'd do this to me.” Anger to agitation, he ran a hand through his hair. “You know, I opened up to you. You know more about me than possibly anyone else. You used your charm and smiles and sunshine to find my weakness and then utilised that against me. You completely betrayed my trust. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

 

“What, that is absolutely ludicrous!” She said incredulously, feeling her own anger beginning to spike. “I would never, ever do anything like that to you! You're describing me like some villain!”

 

“Because it's true. I can't bear to look at you.” He was breathing heavily, leaning against the brick wall and looking as though he was on the last straw. Her desperation was what caused her to grab him by the lapel of his jacket, causing him to yelp in surprise. 

 

“Listen. I did not invite anyone to this show. I respected your wishes because i'm your fucking friend, for fucks sake. I want you to succeed.” The sting of tears seared it's way up the back of her throat, hot and causing her to blink rapidly to try and stop them. “I can't even comprehend why you'd think I'd do that. You mean so  _ much  _ to me. You know that. Shit.”

 

A hot tear slipped down her cheek and she let go of his jacket to hastily brush it away. His anger slipped for a brief moment, allowing her to see the hurt that was written across his face. The idea that he thought she had done something so awful and so against what her morals were was painful and even a little humiliating. 

 

“I know you're going through a lot. Believe me, if I could do anything to help you I would. But take my word for it, I  _ swear _ , I never even considered asking your family to come after you said you didn't want them to. That's not who I am. You must know that.” The tears were falling hot and fast and against her will, making her feel even more pathetic than she already did. “Everything I do is for you, I can't bear to see you hurt. You know my heart and my disposition, you've said it yourself so many times. I would never do anything to hurt you and that's the truth.”

 

Ben looked more conflicted then, his expression between remaining anger and a newfound something other that was hard to place. “I don't know if I can believe you.”

 

“What do I have to do to make you trust me, Ben? All the time we've spent together: the essays, the picnic, the coffee shops, the bookstore, the garden at the ball. I've given you everything I can. I've made so many sacrifices to try and make you happy because,” Her breath hitched in her throat as she stopped the original flow of words, wiping away the last of the tears and forcing herself to pull it together. “Because I value you as a friend. I'd give up anything to make you happy.”

 

He sighed deeply, pushing off against the wall. She looked up at him, mascara streaked down her face, awaiting his next words. He placed his hand on her shoulder then thought better of it, hand back at his side. She immediately missed the feeling.

 

“I need time.” He replied quietly. Her mind racing, she reached out to take his hand but stopped herself abruptly. It felt as though they were strangers again, looking across at each other without recognition, awkwardly silent and reserved from each other from lack of trust and knowledge of the other. It hurt like a knife twisted deep. “I can't do this.”

 

“Does anyone know where Kylo Ren is?” A loud voice drifted through the door, the voice of James Snoke. The two of them exchanged a look. 

 

“Ben.” She gave him one last imploring look, one that was lost entirely on him. With sad resolve, she turned away from him and took the first step down the stairs. In some unwarranted sense of hope, she paused halfway down. Some part of her, no, every part of her, ached for him to stop her and apologise. A chance to make this right and put it behind them. To look past this argument full of untrue accusations so damaging to them both. When no words came, she wasn't surprised. 

 

“Ren. What are you doing? There have been clients looking for you everywhere.” Snoke’s voice travelled down the stairs, the sound of the door opening echoing around her. “You're costing us masses of money. Act grateful and get back out there right now.”

 

“Whatever.” Ben grumbled, and Rey couldn't remove the hurt expression he'd shown her from her memory. “Like I fucking care about your business.”

 

Something was off about his work. That was undeniable. 

 

She opened the door out onto the backstreet, into the midday sunshine that would normally be so appreciated by her. But her mind was plagued with doubts, questions, and most prominently worry. 

 

She would find out what was going on with Ben and the First Order, even if it killed her. Her loyalty to Ben despite the recent argument that had transpired made her determination grow with every step back to her apartment, and as she took the lift to her floor, the hurt she felt was blamed on Snoke. After all, before he had begun talking about his line if work, nothing had seen that off at all. Perhaps the whole argument was a result of his boss. The amount of power Snoke must have had over Ben scared her. 

 

What scared her most was the shift she had felt in her emotions towards Ben. Her sense of loyalty had always been there, yes, but never this strong. She cared about him to, but the bone deep need was foreign and entirely new. It unsettled her. Nothing about the entire situation seemed right in the slightest. 

 

Her hurt soon turned to acceptance to grit. Ben may not trust her, he may think that Snoke had set her up to ruin him. The secrets that surrounded him worried her, and the only way she would be satisfied and possibly rekindle their friendship was to solve the enigma. She would begin to dig deep into the First Order and bring light to whatever was going on. She would give the space he needed until they could become as close as they once were, perhaps even closer. And one day, maybe she'd understand the intensity of emotion she felt towards Ben Solo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I allowed to apologise? ;)


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK guys I am actually so so so sorry!
> 
> I've been suffering a lot recently with my mental health which has unfortunately been affecting my writing and had caused me to postpone this fic for a month and a bit while I work on feeling better. 
> 
> I'm still not great, and this is an academic year packed with exams for me, but I'm going to try my best to power through with my writing because I love this fic, I really do, and I want it to become on paper what it is in my head. 
> 
> Again sorry for the unplanned wait! Hopefully it won't happen again!
> 
> Love all of you so much,   
> \- bri xxxx

_Rey:_

_please know that I didn't invite him I don't want to hurt you you're like my best friend and I don't know what to do without you it's like I can't even brea_

_[Draft 11:38 pm]_

 

With an aggravated sigh she threw her phone across the room. It collided with her bedpost, falling to the floor with an only semi satisfying thump.

 

It was a day like any other in her routine of outward and inward anger after the art show. The morning would be spent sleeping in until noon, the afternoon texting Finn for some form of reassurance that she wasn't just shit at maintaining friendships, the evening with a beer in hand and laptop on her lap, and the night lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, composing another message to Ben Solo in her head. Most of the time it would stay in her imagination, allowing her to create a fictional construction of what their first conversation after this mess would be like. However, in times like these where her heart hurt like there was an iron grip on it, her chest constricted tight with a sadness so deep it felt intrinsic, her self control would sleep and she would open up their text messages and write.

 

The notes in her phone had become a diary of her woes, a new entry every day describing a new part of how truly awful it felt to lose her friend. The worst part was that it wasn't even her fault; and often the messages would turn from dejected to enraged in the span of one sentence.

 

She never sent any of them. She never shared any of her rants. In fact, no one except her and Ben knew they were arguing.

 

It helped, sometimes. Rose had dragged her out of her apartment at least three times in the past week already to go places together: the museum, the ice rink, the prosecco bar. It gave her a chance to clear her mind and have fun again, to pretend she'd never sat across from Ben that day and was none the wiser to his experience. Just Rose, Poe, and Finn. Her three most trusted and loved friends who despite their busy schedules (Poe especially) had managed to make time for her.

 

It was on one of her days out with Finn that he first noticed she wasn't as like herself as usual. Sat on the edge of the fountain in the town square, the sun shining brightly down upon her, children laughing and running about the concrete tiles, the gentle splash of water behind her and the sweet taste of ice cream in her mouth. Everything she loved in one go, yet she couldn't bring any happiness to the surface. It felt as though she was watching on from above, not ever really present in the moment and removed from reality. It was those times in which she wanted to tell someone what she was going through. She knew what they'd say. A plethora of ‘I told you so’s and discussions about her poor choices behind her back, the judging looks when she would sadly recount tales of her and Ben's mishaps and misadventures together. She couldn't face it.

 

“Hey, peanut.” Finn said softly, giving her a gentle nudge in the side. She startled and nearly dropped her ice cream down herself. “You okay?”

 

“Okay? Yeah, totally. Absolutely fine. Top notch.” The words she spoke were so clearly unconvincing that it would've taken an idiot to believe them. She didn't have the energy to make it right.

 

“That is so not true. What's wrong?” He pressed, passing her a napkin to wipe the melted ice cream off her hands. She took it.

 

“Not much. Tired. College's a bitch.” She shrugged it off as nonchalantly as she could. “So much work has been piled on me recently. You know, I've been given a 10,000 word English essay. 10,000 words! It's honestly made me question why I took lit in the first place, but whatever. I'm coping, ish.”

 

“Sounds rough. Workload has increased for me too, but not in that way. I've had lots of little assignments that are really annoying. So I one hundred percent get how you feel.” He took a bite from his ice cream with his front teeth. She shivered at the sight.

 

“Mhm. At least we can suffer together.” She sighed, throwing the napkin into a nearby bin. It landed almost perfectly inside, which granted her a small amount of joy.

 

“We're all in this together. Poe and Rose have been swamped too.” He carried on talking to her, deciding to fill her slightly glum silence. A light breeze blew a red-brown leaf across the patio path in front of their seat, it bounced and skidded along the bright grey pavement until blowing across the road where it was swallowed up by cars. “Autumn's coming.” He commented.

 

“Yeah. Early this year.” Using her spare hand to shield her eyes from the sun, she looked up at the tree overhead with its green to golden leaves. “Seems like the sun has been too hot for the leaves to live.”

 

“The grass on the rec is dry and yellow too. I went with Poe a few days ago and it was just awful. I almost want to bring watering cans along and just revitalise all the plants here. Look,” He pointed out the flowerbed's withering marigolds. “Those were in full bloom last week. I don't know if you caught it, but our town won the In Bloom award a few weeks ago. I doubt it would win it now, in the height of this drought.”

 

“Wow. Yeah.” She crunched into the waffle cone, examining the brittle, fragile petals. “That's so shit.”

 

She felt Finn’s inquisitive stare on the back of her neck again, and so turned back to face him. “What?” She asked, dread pooling in her stomach at the prospect of him figuring out why she was so down. It wasn't that she didn't want help, more that getting help and venting required sharing her problems, something that she wasn't good at after all the self reliance she'd had to depend on when she was younger. Saying it out loud also meant admitting it was real, and everything still felt like a strange dream she would shake herself out of one day.

 

“You can tell me anything. Just remember that.” He said cautiously.

 

“I know.” Guilt made her feel more sick, sick right down to her bones, because she _couldn't_ tell him anything and it hurt like hell.

 

Gingerly, she rolled out of bed, picked her phone up from the floor and dusted it off, examining the surface for cracks. Deciding there and then that she needed to do something productive with her time rather than just moping around like she wanted to, she reached for her laptop. Once it had booted up and logged her in, she opened a word document, entitling it ‘My Five Step Plan To Get My Life Back On Track’

 

  1. _Do all of my assignments so there's less college related stress._
  2. _Go out with the whole gang and have fun. Properly._
  3. _Start going to the gym again._
  4. _Eat healthily again because I have had way too many carbs this week._
  5. _Forget Kyle Ron exists or something_



 

As soon as she'd typed the fifth step she knew it would be impossible. With a frustrated sigh, she jabbed down the backspace key so she was left with the document blank again. The cursor blinked expectantly on the white page. After steeling herself, she retitled the page ‘My Research’.

 

Opening Google, she typed the first thing that came to her mind. Her whole problem with the Ben situation as that she didn't know enough about him or his family or his place of work to act appropriately. Although she got a distinct gut feeling there was more to his boss than met the eye, she was determined to find out why for definite. She clicked on the first article that came up on the page, dated a year back and on a local news website.

 

 

> **THE FIRST ORDER: ART FOR THE PUBLIC?**
> 
> The beloved art studios situated in the centre of our city have recently been bought by James Snoke, a popular and prestigious art critic from overseas. Intrigued by him and his plans for the gallery, I was sent to conduct an interview with the man himself.
> 
>  
> 
> After picking up a couple of cups of coffee on my way to the studios (is he a black coffee or flat white kind of man?) and running an unfortunate five minutes late, I run up the stairs in double time before knocking on the door. An assistant opens the door and shakes my hand, leading me into the maze of offices towards the large one at the end of the corridor, which, unlike the other glass panelled desk dividers, is a separate wooden room. I'm told that this is where he resides for most of the day, making important phone calls to his contacts all over the world. Once I'm left by the assistant to “Go ahead and knock”, I stand hesitantly by the door for a solid minute before mustering the courage to do so.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm greeted by James Snoke, a well dressed, well mannered, American man with a firm handshake, and a nod towards my coffee in thanks. He pulls up a chair for me across his desk and we begin to talk about his business.
> 
>  
> 
> “So, taking this place over from The Empire must seem like a big task.” I begin, shuffling my papers into a neat pile. “What do you plan to bring to our city with The First Order?”
> 
>  
> 
> “It isn't as big of a task as it may seem to you. I have full confidence in my team that we will bring fine, modern, exquisite art in a way that is accessible and affordable.” He replies, placing his clasped hands on his desk. “As you are aware, The First Order are known for their competitive pricing.”
> 
>  
> 
> “Are you not concerned that your change in location across countries might impact your business?” I ask curiously.
> 
>  
> 
> “Not at all. We have loyal customers worldwide.” Snoke sips from his cup. “Our influence in Germany, France, and Spain will surely be found here as well.”

 

Rey paused her reading for a moment. She still couldn't place her finger upon what was off about Snoke, but she was getting the same vibes from him now that she was getting after meeting him in person. This article wasn't really helping much as of yet, in fact, it made The First Order appear to be quite a reputable business.

 

 

> “And you've taken on some new students while you're here? Are you hoping they'll contribute to the company?”
> 
>  
> 
> “One apprentice. Ben Solo is a new member of The First Order, a fan since he discovered our work a few years ago. Seeing his raw talent and untamed potential for art made him my perfect protégé."

 

She copied and pasted a few lines across into her research document, trying to ignore the pit in her stomach that told her this was the wrong thing to be doing. Snooping into personal business wasn't a habit of hers, but undying curiosity was. And no matter how hard she'd tried this past week, she couldn't untangle herself from the mess she'd caught herself in regarding to Ben. It felt like her duty to figure out the enigmas and fill out the missing gaps in her knowledge. In fact when she looked back, she realised that she had told him a lot more about herself than he had told her about him. She wasn't even sure she knew his age.

 

Despite her curiosity, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was going to uncover something much more sinister than what The First Order appeared to be. That held her back, hands hovering above the keyboard, eyes burning from midnight tiredness against the blue light emitted from her laptop screen. Was this betraying Ben's trust? Did they even have any trust between them any more, or were those days over? She wasn't sure. But she needed answers.

 

So, she clicked onto the next article, and prepared to spend the whole night awake.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe this fic is eight months old already?!  
> I certainly can't.   
> These past months have been a complete roller coaster for me; from good to bad to middlish.  
> But I wouldn't trade them for the world, as writing this is one of the best decisions I made.   
> Sure, I've had my trials and tribulations, mostly goddamn writer's block and finding time, but it's been good.  
> Thank you all for giving me the motivation to write, for leaving the loveliest comments and more kudos then I ever imagined (seriously, I was expecting a maximum of two)  
> I love you so so much  
> -bri xxxx

“Please, Rey. Come along. It'll be so much fun!” Rose implored, causing Rey to roll her eyes even though they were speaking over the phone. “This is the first time in ages we've all been free again! And you know how much I love roller skating discos.”

 

“I already told you, I'm sick.” She fake coughed and made her voice go more raspy. For good measure, she blew her nose. “I don't want to infect you three.”

 

“Sounds like the flu. You poor soul.” Rose said sympathetically. “But don't worry. We had our flu jabs this year. You can still come and it will be fine.”

 

She swore under her breath. She was running out of excuses for not going, and still couldn't exactly bring herself to confide in her friends just yet. Dammit, this situation was affecting her way more than she should have let it. “I really don't feel well. I'm nauseated whenever I stand up--” She coughed a few times. “And I haven't had an appetite in days and I'm sneezing and coughing every thirty seconds. I'd just make the trip miserable. Go without me.”

 

“I can't! What kind of friend would I be?!” Rose gasped, so outraged that her voice crackled loudly over the terrible phone signal. “Wait. New plan. We'll all come over and look after you! I'll bring soup and blankets, Finn and Poe can bring movies and tissues, and we can still have fun!”

 

“No, seriously, you don't have to--”

 

“We'll be round in like twenty minutes.” Rose didn't seem to have heard her. “Finn, Poe, we're going to Rey’s!”

 

“My apartment is an actual dumpster, please don't--”

 

“Oh, cool.” Finn's voice travelled faintly through the phone line. “See you in a few, peanut,”

 

“We couldn't have gone back to ours?” Poe questioned. “We just got furni--”

 

“She doesn't know about that yet!” Rose cut across, placing what Rey assumed was her hand over the microphone so the sound became muffled, meaning that all she could hear was general screeching.

 

“She's sick--”

 

“Okay, fairs--”

 

“No, no, no, we've got to go now--”

 

“Where's the milk?”

 

“Oh my god!”

 

“Shit, watch the cat!”

 

“Shhh!”

 

Rey sat on her sofa in her pajamas and fuzzy socks, vacantly listening as chaos unfurled on the other end of the phone. She glanced across at her half week's worth of empty mugs across her table and empty packets of crisps with a bummed sigh. 

 

“Okay, we're coming over!” Rose shouted down the phone, making Rey jump and almost drop it. “See you!”

 

She cursed under her breath for the second time. Lying to her friends sucked, and knowing how much they cared about her to bother coming over made her feel worse. How would she keep up the act? Should she keep up the act? Could she have a good time without her mind drifting towards her problems? Would she be able to hold off what felt like her impending breakdown? She had too many questions and nowhere near enough answers. Her stomach churned and, not for the first time that day, she looked down at her phone on her lap and then across at Paradise Lost on the floor. It was shit. Shit, shit, shit. Her life was shit, her argument with Ben was shit, her being torn apart from it was shit, and not knowing how to fix what felt like a major crack in their friendship felt shit. 

 

_ Rey: _

_ Ben literally I don't want to fight about this anymore pls just listen to me or something I'm so stressed out _

_ [Draft, 11:02 am] _

 

Before she knew it, her phone was in her hands and her finger hovered above the send button. She wanted to press it, but also not. On one hand, this could be the text that saved them and their friendship. On the other, it could ruin it for good. Would Ben actually want to be left alone? Or was he waiting for her to reach out? Would he leave her on read, or just block her number, or worse reply with something that she didn't want to hear? 

 

_ Rey: _

_ I have a new favourite bit in paradise lost _

_ [Draft, 11:03 am] _

 

She backspaced quickly. 

 

_ Rey: _

_ Hey _

_ [Draft, 11:03 am] _

 

Nothing she typed seemed to convey the right message. Acting like nothing had happened appeared to be the best idea, but with how it was tearing her apart (and no doubt Ben also) it felt like she was lying to herself. Why hadn't he texted her? Why hadn't he been at the library? 

 

She turned her phone off and kicked the blankets off her lap, standing up to go and put her phone into her room. Out of sight and out of mind, she convinced herself, leaving it under her pillow on her bed. She stopped for a moment, hovering over her bed. Shaking off her hesitation, she went through to the living room. As she passed the door, there was a loud knock. She answered it. 

 

“Hey, Rose, Poe, Finn.” She gave them a weak smile, hoping that her emotional exhaustion would pass for the fake physical illness she'd made up. “Wanna come in?”

 

The trio exchanged a look. 

 

“Peanut, you look terrible.” Finn stepped forwards, cupping her face in his hands and then going in with a hug. 

 

“Ha, believe me, I know.” She hugged him back and ushered in Poe and Rose who closed the door behind them. “Turns out being as sick as a dog doesn't make my skin it's most beautiful and dewy and glowy.”

 

“Have you slept?” Poe joined the conversation from his place behind the kitchen counter, filling up the kettle for drinks. “You look like you haven't in at least two days.”

 

She frowned. “Yeah. I've slept pretty much all day everyday this week.”

 

“That sucks.” Rose took the biscuits down from their shelf, opening the packet and offering them round. Rey slipped out of Finns hug to accept one. “You must really be fighting something off. Oh, I bought carrot and coriander soup. Hope that's okay?”

 

“Yeah, it's perfect. Thank you.” Rey let Finn lead her back to her nest on the sofa. “Honestly you guys, you didn't have to do this for me.”

 

“Yes we absolutely did.” Finn sat down next to her and turned on the TV. “You're always here for us when we're sick. Remember freshman year of high-school?”

 

She laughed a little. “Oh god, when you had strep throat?”

 

“Exactly. That tragedy. You came round to mine every night after school with all of the work and helped me do it, and brought me food and hot drinks.” He nodded, opening Netflix and scrolling through the suggested programs. “You were a literal angel.”

 

She shrugged it off with a small smile. “It was the least I could do.”

 

“And when I had that three day long hangover?” Rose called from her spot in the kitchen. “You held my hair back when I threw up. That's true friendship.”

 

“Okay, but again that's just what friends do,” She tried. “And I've never had to look after Poe,”

 

“That's true, but I know you would.” He waved the spoon he was using in her direction. “So we're just doing what friends do and looking after you in your time of need. Relax. You deserve it. You spend so much of your time worried about other people that you forget about yourself.”

 

“Don't call me out,” She pulled her blanket up to her chin. “Ooh, I love that movie. Let's watch it.”

 

“Sure,” Finn set it up ready for when Rose and Poe were finished. Poe brought the cups of coffee over on a tray and set it down on the small table. 

 

“Rey, yours is the one on the left. Lots of milk, two spoons of sugar, right?” Poe checked, sliding the mug towards her. 

 

“Yeah,” She replied, slightly amazed. “How did you know?”

 

“Telepathy.” He grinned, sitting down on the sofa next to Finn. 

 

“I told him.” Rose said exasperatedly, bringing the soup off the hob and into a bowl then over to Rey. 

 

“Knew it.” Rey took a small spoonful of the soup gratefully. It was just the right the temperature and absolutely delicious. It almost made her feel a little bit better. “So what's this secret you were talking about that I don't know about yet?”

 

Poe and Finn exchanged a happy look. 

 

“We've moved in together. We found a place a few weeks ago and moved in on Monday. We were going to surprise you with an invitation to an apartment warming party, but it turns out someone can't keep their mouth shut.” Finn explained, nudging Poe in the side. 

 

“Hey, I didn't realise she could hear me! I guess you heard the cat thing too, huh?” Poe glanced over at her. 

 

“Mhm. I love cats.” She set down her bowl of soup and pressed play on the movie. The opening begun, and she turned down the volume so it was more background noise than anything else. “What's it called?”

 

“Beebee. Beebee eight.”

 

“Why the eight? What happened to the other seven?”

 

“It's a secret he'll never tell.”

 

They all laughed together, and it felt just like the old times with them that Rey missed so much. With everyone being scattered across the map from different work and school events having time was hard to find. It reminded her of the first year they all met and spent the entire summer together, moving from place to place on the longest and best road trip she had ever been on. 

 

They quietened down for the film, Rose managing to squeeze onto the sofa too. It was a tight fit but none of the four cared, comfortable with having entangled legs and sitting half on each other. There was more to life than just her and Ben, she realised as the time she spent with her friends drew on, something that she'd never put together in the suffocating week alone. It may have felt all consuming, but she was slowly starting to pull her way towards the surface. And that was enough. 

 

×××

 

Ben sat in front of his easel, black and grey paint daubed over the canvas in front of him. His hands were messy, his hair messier, the light from the window obstructed by the blinds drawn across in his studio. 

 

The painting was his worst yet. In frustration, he dragged the paintbrush down like a knife’s gash and then threw it to the floor. It wasn't his first failed painting in the last week. In fact Snoke had been on his dick about it constantly. Nothing he produced was good enough, there was always something fundamentally wrong with each new attempt. Too brash, too subdued, colours too muted, completely wrong colours, ridiculous brush strokes. It piled up on him as he grabbed the new canvas, covering it in black with stiff cross movement. He dipped into the orange, placing it on the centre of the canvas, then using the same crosses to diffuse the colour. 

 

The door at the side of his studio opened, and to his dismay his boss walked in, dressed in impeccable suit and a scowl already on his face. “Ren.”

 

He didn't answer, adding yellow to his brush and working that through, checking back against the reference picture for good measure. 

 

Snoke walked towards him with a gait too calm to be normal, setting off alarm bells in Ben's head. He continued with the painting, trying to hide the new tension in his wrist. 

 

“My greatest risk was taking you in.” Snoke pulled up a chair, face carefully blank as he sat opposite the painting and perpendicular to Ben. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of folded paper. Although he didn't want to, Ben felt his attention being drawn towards him. “I'm starting to realise it may also have been my greatest mistake.”

 

Snoke unfolded the paper, a newspaper clipping from the congratulatory message Ben's parents had posted for him. Ben's breathing hitched as he watched his movements, involuntarily transfixed. 

 

“I saw the potential you had. Yes, at first, you would be our saving grace. A wide-eyed eager young boy with more talent than he realised, praying to find a place in the world that seemed to hate him so much. I offered you the best resources we had. The best studios. The best teachers.” Snoke continued, refolding the clipping and putting it away before straightening his tie and looking Ben right in the eyes. “Your own art shows to kick-start your career. And look where you are now.”

 

“I got loads of offers last week at the show,” Ben muttered, not knowing why he was being attacked by his boss this time. “For thousands. You should be having a field day with the amount you'll make off me.”

 

“What you don't  _ understand _ ,” His boss cut across, temper flaring. “Is that sacrifices have to be made. You do not negotiate the rules here. You do not decide when you can't be bothered to work. You do not put the entire business on the line because of a spat between you and your father.”

 

Ben could feel his own anger rising, hot inside his veins. He clenched the handle of his paintbrush tightly, knuckles whitening. “Don't tell me what to do,”

 

“You are a child.” Snoke spoke coldly, maintaining eye contact. “You are a child playing an adult's game.”

 

The brush slipped from his hand and hit the stone flooring. “I am not a fucking--”

 

“And you will learn, Ren, that when the time comes you are not the centre of the world. You are one cog in this machine, and you will forever remain as such. Nothing you try will change that.” He stood up, placing the chair back with the same cold calmness that he had used earlier. 

 

“This is fucking ridiculous, all you do is criticise me!” Ben held his hands tightly together run his lap, trying desperately to control his temper. “You already take a huge percentage of my earnings, you work me like a slave, and I've had fucking enough. Fuck you. I'm out.” He shot up, pushing his chair back hard and striding towards the door with purpose. White hot anger began to cloud his mind. He reached the doorway and stopped, obstructed. Snoke stood in front of him, cold mask morphing into something more grotesque. 

 

“I own you.” He sneered down at his protégé.

 

The door slammed in Ben's face. In his rage, he punched the door hard, panting with each new hit. He turned towards the array of canvases and brushes, shoving into them with brute force. Red blossomed across them as he knocked the red paint off the workbench, red seeping through the grains and into the floor. His hands were covered in it, multicoloured strokes all over. He tried to rub it off as he took in the destruction, head swimming. The stone walls felt like a prison cell trapping him in the midst of it all, completely and utterly alone. 

 

×××

 

“You're distracted. What's wrong?” Finn whispered, gently nudging Rey’s foot with his. Time had slipped away from them while they all watched movies and played board games, leading to both Poe and Rose falling asleep an hour or so previously. They snored gently, Rose lying on the floor, Poe on a spare beanbag. 

 

“Nothing. I'm fine.” She replied quietly, careful not to wake her friends. The clock on the table read five past midnight, the shadows cast by it's red lights faintly obscuring Finn. 

 

“You know I don't buy that for a minute.” He readjusted how he was sitting under the blanket, looking across at the window overlooking the city opposite them. “I've known you for years. You've never kept anything from me.”

 

“It's… I don't know. You'll just get mad at me or something.” She pulled her knees to her chest and kept her gaze forward as well. “It's really dumb.”

 

“If it's affecting you this much, there's no way in hell that it's dumb. And I'll never get mad at you for talking to me, okay? You're my best friend. I'd do anything to make sure you're comfortable talking to me.” He held back a slight yawn then leant forward to take a sip from his cup of water. 

 

“It's… I had a kind of argument with someone and it's not my fault but they think it is, so through that I think it is, and I don't know what to do.” She began to explain, omitting the details to detach herself from it as much as possible.

 

“Do you mind telling me more detail? Why was the argument about?”

 

“They thought I invited someone they really didn't get along with to this thing. And they have a rocky relationship with the person and have for literal years. So I don't know why they think I'd invite them.” She sighed, already beginning to feel the anxious wave in her stomach that appeared whenever she thought about it. 

 

“It's really not something you'd do.” Finn agreed. 

 

“So they had a go at me and said I'd betrayed their trust and that really upset me so I left. And we haven't spoken since. And it's really difficult because I feel like whatever I try and do will make it worse. I wanna text them, but what if they ignore me? Or what if they get mad and we end up arguing even more?” She took a deep breath, trying to stop the shakiness taking over her voice. “Shit, why did I leave? I should've stayed and then fixed it and--”

 

“From what you've told me, this is not your fault at all. Don't focus on what you could've done. You can't change the past. It sounds like your friend is in a tough place anyway.” Finn paused, hesitating a second. “Is this with who I think it is?”

 

“Depends who you think it is,” She replied, looking straight at the wall and trying to control the anxiety slowly rising.

 

“Ben?” He asked quietly, hazard in his guess. 

 

“Yes.” She sighed glumly, rubbing her hands over her face.

 

“Shit.” Finn carefully put an arm around her. She let him, leaning in a little bit. “I'm so sorry, Peanut. I know he's difficult.”

 

“Difficult is a strong word. Unpredictable, maybe. It just really hurts that I've spent so much time with him and done so much shit together, good and bad and in between, built a friendship with him and supported him as much as I could and for all of that to be ruined so quickly by a stupid fucking art show and his father showing up--” She wiped her eyes quickly. “We told each other so much personal stuff and for him to think I'd just find that out and turn it against him makes me feel sick. It hurts so bad that he thinks I'm capable of that and that I would do it, because it's so not me. You know, with all my daddy issues and whatnot I know exactly what it's like for him. So to connect to him with something so deeply rooted emotionally in me felt special. It felt like we understood each other.”

 

Finn gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “You've had a really tough life. It's okay to let this out.”

 

“And it just really really hurts. There's nothing I can do about it. It's like this physical ache that's in the background all the time and I'll see things that remind me of the friendship or the argument and I'll feel like I've been cast out to sea without an anchor, struggling against the waves.” Though she hated it, the tears began to fall properly again, hot and fast. “And all I see is the lighthouse in the distance where everything is fixed and great but I'm being swept away by the tide and the light is growing dimmer with the fig. This is the shittest analogy I've ever given you,”

 

He gave her a sad smile, gently guiding her closer. “Am I allowed to agree?”

 

“No,” She sniffled. “That's mean.”

 

“Okay. So what happened after?”

 

“I've been fighting against messaging him about it. I mean, when we argued he made it clear he didn't want to speak to me. So then I feel like reaching out will make it worse, and he hasn't reached out either.” She continued, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Finn, I'm worried.”

 

“About him?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh,  _ Rey _ ,” He hugged her as she cried quietly onto his shoulder. “You're so caring. All this happening and your concern about him just proves that you're a good person. He just needs to realise that his assumptions were wrong. None of this is your fault.”

 

“It feels like it,”

 

“No. I'm not going to let you take responsibility for this when there's literally nothing you've done that's wrong.” He pulled the blanket around her that had slipped off during the hug and passed her a packet of tissues from the pocket of his jeans. “I know you don't want to hear this, but you need sleep. You need to relax and take your mind off this.”

 

She reluctantly leant back on the sofa, eyes red but tired as she settled down. “Finn,”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Please don't tell Poe and Rose.”

 

“I'll see. Now go to sleep.” He curled up on the other end of the sofa and closed his eyes as well. 

 

“Thank you,” She said after a few minutes, feeling sleep pull her into its clutches. 

 

“Don't thank me. Just sleep.”

 

By the time the clock reached half past, they were all fast asleep. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay holy moly i didn't realise so many of you that read this fic are really talented writers??? how can you be SO GOOD and still read this lol  
> love y'all so much like i would hug everyone here if i could,  
> \- bri xxxx

3am. Too early.

 

Rey rubbed her eyes, staring at the ceiling from where she lay on her bed. This was the worst time to wake up of all; she'd needed all the sleep she could get recently. In addition, it was what she had dubbed her ‘bad decisions hour’, made accurate by the fact she was already subconsciously reaching for her phone. She chided herself, trying to discourage the urge to text Ben at such a ridiculous hour again. He didn't deserve to know how hung up on him she was. Surely it would only boost his massive ego.

 

She knew that she wouldn't be able to take her mind off him though, no matter how hard she might try. She instead opened up her research document she'd started earlier in the week to review her notes.

 

  * Snoke is dodgy
  * First order popular globally
  * Weird place for an art gallery--we're in the middle of nowhere?
  * Ben is ‘Kylo Ren’ for some reason
  * Ben was really secretive about the name thing
  * They apparently support indie artists but then how come they have enough money to open so many galleries??
  * No one knows where snoke came from
  * I can't figure out how their financial statements work
  * Hux is annoying. This probably isn't relevant but he really pisses me off.
  * Why does something just feel completely off????
  * NOTHING HERE IS RIGHT WHY CAN'T I FUCKING FIGURE IT OUT



 

The last bullet point still rung painfully true. She'd slowly moved on from the hurt to the curiosity and determination to figure out just what was at play here, and it was proving insanely difficult. There was something fundamentally off about The First Order, from the studios to Ben being so secretive about his work there.

 

She googled Snoke’s name again, sifting through the pages upon pages of search results and finding absolutely nothing relevant to her research. She then changed tactics, searching for the art galleries again.

 

It was then, when she clicked on the third search result on the fourth page, that something caught her eye.

 

 

> _Event - July 23rd, 11 am - 1 pm_
> 
> _Exclusive and breathtaking highlight artwork by Van Gogh available for auction from The First Order studios. Other works from other artists available as well, all of them highly valuable._
> 
> _For our private focus group only. Images of paintings below._

 

She clicked on the images and scrolled through them slowly. She recognised a few of the paintings as the most famous ones, her unease growing with each new photograph of the paintings. It didn't make sense - everything Ben had mentioned about his job (as little as that was) had only included his own artwork and Hux’s.

 

She took a screenshot and added it onto her document, then scrolled through the other events listings. They were of a similar sort, all four or so months apart from each other and with the one spotlight piece from a famous artist, and then other paintings and sculptures that were also relatively known. All of these were marked as for private auction only, so she added more screenshots into the document.

 

She yawned, shuffling to sit up against the headboard of her bed. It creaked loudly, causing her to jump. Once finally comfortable again, she delved deeper into the archived posts.

 

It was at that point she reached a wall. The posts had stopped, and the ones she tried to click on popped up with an Admin only message. Shit. She was sure that if she had knowledge of computer science and hacking she'd be a lot closer to solving the mystery. It felt like a taunt, a red cloth waved in front of her eyes.

 

Frustrated, she closed the tab and reviewed the pictures from the other posts that she had been able to access. While doing this, she noticed an event listed that she'd scrolled past without properly checking out, that now she was desperately searching for information seemed like a good bet.

 

 

> _Event - January 26th, 5pm - 8pm_
> 
> _View work by our new artists available for commission. Trained for at least three years by our prestigious team, you can be assured they are of the highest caliber. Examples of their work below._

 

She clicked on the first painting, which was a simple charcoal sketch of a woman by a window. Normal enough, it seemed, but something pulled at her to scroll onwards. At the penultimate photo, she stopped. It was a painting very similar to what Ben had described as some of the work he did, and the style really resembled something she couldn't place.

 

She opened up a new tab, googling ‘Artist with industrial landscapes’. A few results came up and she sifted through them for the next ten minutes, but they weren't quite right.

 

Her next search was ‘small colour palette industrial painter’ which only yielded blog posts on how to paint bathroom walls.

 

Slowly running thin on patience, her searches became more and more useless. ‘Painter with small palette’, ‘Famous painter who painted streets and people’, ‘English painter famous industrial landscapes’. When that didn't work, she slumped down onto her pillow, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. Her searches weren't specific enough to get the result she wanted, nor worded well enough.

 

She lay down for five minutes, performing mental gymnastics as she tried to remember why the style of painting had struck her.

 

She shot upright suddenly, memories of high school art lessons flooding back to her, grabbing her phone and googling ‘matchstick people paintings’. She nervously scrolled through the picture results to find LS Lowry, an English painter who fit all of the things she was trying to find. She searched for his name then, looking through numerous paintings and sketches, her sense that she was close to unravelling everything going haywire.

 

She copied that new information onto the document, then stopped suddenly. Quickly, she switched back to the tab with the First Order artist's paintings and compared them to the works of Lowry.

 

“Holy fucking shit,” She whispered as it all begun to click into place. The styles were similar in a very, very intentional way. She checked back through the other works of art, more and more similarities in the styles becoming apparent as she did so.

 

The private viewings made sense. Ben's secrecy about his work made sense. The financial statements made sense.

 

The First Order forged art. Their business was made off fraud and lies and crime all over the world. Snoke was a con artist of a millionaire, and Ben had become involved.

 

She fumbled to save the document of her findings, hands shaking as she pulled up her texts with Ben. Her finger hovered over the call button in the right hand corner, her conscience at a crossroad. She needed answers. She needed to know if she was right, and she needed to help Ben. But the argument they had still loomed over her, making her stomach churn with doubt. How would he react? Would he even be awake? What did finding all of this out mean for her, for him, and for the entire business empire built by James Snoke?

 

Before she knew what she was doing, she pressed call.

 

The phone rang. Once, twice, three times. The anxiety only grew as she got out of bed to pace the room, opening a window so should breathe again. Four, five, six.

 

“Why the fuck are you calling me at fucking four--”

 

“Ben! Oh my god! I'm freaking out. What the fuck? The First Order, it's all an underground crime group!” She was in such a state of shock that she couldn't stop the flow of words coming out if her mouth. “Art forgery, there was Lowry, and the commissions are to exploit the artists!”

 

“Rey. Shut the fuck up.” Ben's voice was scratchy with tiredness. “I don't want to talk to you. Stop shouting, and stop being ludicrous. Good night.”

 

“Wait!” She whisper shouted, dropping her volume from her high pitched loudness. “It's true!”

 

“It's not. I'm still pissed at you.”

 

“Get the fuck over it. I didn't invite your family and that's the truth. I don't know why you're so desperate to project everything onto me and make me feel like shit all if the time because of things I can't control, I don't know why you immediately assumed that I'd go behind your back. I'm fucking upset, and I have way more right to be pissed at you for attacking me than you have for whatever you think I've done. I'm a good person, believe it or not. There's no way I'd do that to you. So can you just stop sticking your fingers in your ears and ignoring me and deal with your problems for once in your fucking life, because this is _not_ the time for you to take the holier than thou route and pretend that I'm the reason your life is shit. I have no idea how Han found out about the art show, but I assume it's from all the fucking advertising Snoke got hung around town central and posted on the company website. So if you're done with being the biggest fucking dick on this planet, listen to me.”

 

Silence on the other end of the phone. Rey sobered from her burst of anger, the realisation of all the things she'd said setting in.

 

“Can we just stop fighting?” She said quietly, cautiously.

 

A long pause that seemed to drag on for hours. The only sound on the end if the phone was Ben's breathing. Worried she'd gone too far, the wave of anxiety swelled up inside her and she had to lean against the wall and close her eyes to regain control.

 

“Fine. Just talk.” He replied shortly.

 

Relief overtook her and she opened her eyes, looking out of the window at the city skyline. “You work with the First Order. Something is incredibly off about them and I think I know what it is. It's all a cover for art forgery. Your charcoal sketches you showed me that day in the library, the style was an almost exact copy of Lowry. The medium obviously wasn't the same, which was what made me doubtful at first, but the number of valuable paintings Snoke auctioned didn't add up otherwise. Where was he getting his regular supply from, unless they were all fake?”

 

Ben didn't reply in the thirty second gap she gave him, so she carried on.

 

“So the art show you did showcased techniques from lots of different artists. It masqueraded as an ordinary showing, but really it was so people could commission you to work for them as a forger.” She rested her head against the cool glass. “So then they can sell on fake paintings and earn lots of money. And Snoke has had it running from different countries for years and it's gone undetected.”

 

She took a quick pause again to try and gauge his reaction, but he gave none.

 

“The extensive training artists are put through was probably just working on creating convincing copies. And this is all illegal. My god, Ben. What are you doing?” Her tone turned pleading, begging for an answer or confirmation to everything she'd figured out. It was so much worse than she'd anticipated at the beginning of their friendship, and now she'd become entangled in his life problems too.

 

“I… Okay. Whatever happens, you're staying fucking silent about this.” He finally answered, sounding more awake. “If Snoke finds out you know this--”

 

“You can't stop me from telling anyone. Like I'm going to listen to what you say after the disaster that was our argument. You don't deserve my time of day.” Her temper flared up again. She hated being told what to do by him, and it was even worse because of how angry she still was. The argument had hurt her more than be could ever know, and the instinct to lash out was impossible to reign in.

 

“This goes beyond that. Rey, this would put people behind bars and place a massive target on our backs if this got out. It could reveal the entire industry. Don't make a stupid, life ruining decision because you're pissed at me.” Ben let out a loud sigh, then counted slowly under his breath. “Fuck.”

 

“But this is awful - it's completely illegal! What the fuck, I can't just not say anything! Snoke deserves to be exposed for what he's doing.” She protested, her moral compass going haywire.

 

“I'll go to jail.” He said simply.

 

It was a low blow, considering Ben knew how much she cared about him. “I don't want that to happen, but there has to be something we can do.” She tried, thinking hard and trying to come up with a solution. “Could you quit and then we can get this out? Get yourself fired or refuse to paint more or something? Oh god, this is stressful.”

 

“I'm under a contract. I'm Snoke’s property.” He spoke calmly despite the situation, something that just stressed her out even further. “He'll never let me go. And since when was there a ‘we’?”

 

“ _Ben,_ ” She gritted her teeth and sat down in the armchair by her open window. “You're not getting caught up in this. It's not your fault. I won't let it happen.”

 

“Why don't you ever listen?” He punctuated each word in a way that was borderline harsh, but mostly tired and defeated. “There's no way you can save me from the fallout. I signed myself completely away five years ago. I've hired the best lawyers in the country and gone to court twice. And you know what happened? Snoke won. And he always will.”

 

“You can't just think like that!” Shocked, she quickly began a rebuttal. “You can't let yourself be defeated this easily. I can help you.”

 

“You can't. Forget everything you know. It'll be easier that way. Don't let your sense of morality make this situation a hundred times worse for me.” His voice hardened, and she could feel his patience thinning. “I chose this path for myself. I'll follow it to the end.”

 

“Ben, what the hell--”

 

Her phone bleeped twice, signalling the end of the call. Feeling empty, she set it down on her bedside table, head swimming. What the fuck was she going to do? In a moment of blind panic, she went to her bathroom, turning on the harsh white light and turning on the tap in the sink. She watched the water run across the ceramic, looked up to see her own pale face in the mirror. She cupped her hands, scooped up the cold water, and splashed it straight into her face. Spluttering, she placed a steadying hand against the mirror, watching the way her body reacted to the sudden stimulus. Water trickled down her face, running onto the oversized shirt she wore to sleep and soaking it a darker shade. Seeming to get a grip on herself once more, she reached numbly for the hand towel and pressed it against her face.

 

She knew too much. She would be the cat killed by curiosity, the reason for the dissolution of everything solid in Ben's life, and no doubt others in the same position. She wanted to respect his request to leave it, but it was something so huge and larger than ever imagined that even holding it in this long was fragmenting her. Despite not knowing who she would talk to, she had the rush of adrenaline in her veins pushing her to do something about it.

 

It was her duty, she had to help Ben. She would set their differences aside and save him from the hole he had buried him into, because she had seen the real him. She knew he wasn't a stone cold, annoying, immoral prick (though he pretended to be), and that there was hope of redemption for him. It was knowing where to start that was the problem.

 

×××

 

The fountain in front of her glimmered in the moonlight, the flowers around casting dark shadows across her as she stepped towards it. It was cold and wet, the rain pouring down from the sky as though some direct curse from on high. Her hands rested on the solid marble and she looked into the flow of water to see her own reflection. She followed it, reaching out with a hand to break through the wall it created. It split into small streams around her hand, freezing cold but steadying. She knew it would soon be time for sunrise, soon time for her to leave and go back home and get back to her work. It was peaceful for now, at least. The birds hadn't yet begun to chirp and the only sounds were of the rustling leaves and the splash of the fountain. She retracted her hand once the water was unbearably cold, pulling the leather jacket tighter around her with a shiver.

 

A branch snapped behind her, distinctly not part of the typical soundscape of the night. She whirled around, heart racing a million miles a minute.

 

“How fucking coincidental. We both choose the same place to escape to.” Ben sighed, walking towards her with his hands in his pockets.

 

“You terrified me.” She breathed, feeling almost frozen in place. “Don't sneak up on me like that.”

 

“You're wearing my jacket.” He stopped a little in front of her, leaves crunching under his feet.

 

“Oh,” She began to pull it off her shoulders.

 

“Keep it on. I gave it to you, didn't I?” He gave her a strangely curious look, as if he hadn't expected her reaction.

 

“Yeah.” She was lost for a response, their situation incredibly awkward.

 

“You're freaking out.” He observed.

 

“No shit,” She laughed, derisive.

 

“Why?” He asked.

 

“Why?” She repeated, baffled he was even asking.

 

“It's not you on the line. None of this situation directly affects you. You're not the one stuck in the middle of a potential landmine.”

 

She scowled and sat on the edge of the fountain, facing away from him. “If you're just going to invalidate my feelings then fuck right off.”

 

He hesitated a moment and then sat next to her, hands still in his pockets. They sat in silence. Rey watched the leaves on the bush. He let out a deep, tired sigh. “We're in deep shit.”

 

She sighed too, breath condensing in the cold air. “We are.”

 

A particularly chilly gust of wind blew, causing the leaves to pull off the bush and float off into the distance. They both pulled their jackets round them tighter in hope of staying warm.

 

Ben reached out, putting his arm around Rey’s shoulders. She looked up inquisitively, a swarm of questions on the tip of her tongue.

 

“I'm sorry.” He said before she managed to speak. “I… Fucked up.”

 

“Yeah. You did.” She agreed.

 

Thinking that he'd said the wrong thing, he began to remove his arm from around her. She took his hand to stop him. It was his turn to look confused, tentatively hovering his arm above her.

 

“I'm cold.” She offered as explanation, and he put his arm back where it was.

 

They sat together, sharing body heat, looking up at the stars and the onset of sunrise.

 

“This is like--”

 

“The ball? Yeah,” Rey slowly slipped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.

 

“But nicer.” He finished, her hair tickling his face slightly. He blew it lightly away.

 

“In a sense.” She sighed.

 

“How so?”

 

“This feels like the calm before the storm.”

 

“That's because it is. At least we're not arguing.”

 

“That's one small blessing, I suppose.” She responded, fiddling with the zip on his jacket.

 

“We'll have to take all we can get.” He lightly tapped her on the arm with his fingertips.

 

“Since when was there a ‘we’?” She lifted her head to give him a mischievous look.

 

“Oh, piss off.”

 

“Never.”

 

They exchanged a genuine smile despite the dire situation ahead of them.

 

“I'm not that mad at you anymore.” Rey said quietly, falling into a serious mood. “But it really hurt, what you did.”

 

He swallowed awkwardly “I know. It was awful of me to do.”

 

“Damn straight.”

 

“What do you want me to do for your forgiveness?”

 

Her expression shifted. “Just be quiet. And stay.”

 

“Okay.” He sat more upright, allowing her to readjust how she was leaning against him. After five minutes, “Rey?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You're the best friend I've ever had.”

 

She looked up at him, surprised, but in a good way. “That's… You mean a lot to me.”

 

They lapsed back into silence, watching the condensation of their breath and the sun slowly rising in orange and pink to chase away the night.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so these are always me apologising for bad scheduling  
> But it is exam year for me so even when I have inspo, finding time amongst revision and coursework is really difficult :(  
> Hope you enjoy the chapter nonetheless, it was such a welcome break for me,   
> \- brie xx

“Ben,  _ no way. _ ” Sat across from him in the library, she gave him the most incredulous look she could muster, resisting the urge to hit him with the book she was leaning on. “We are  _ not _ doing dumb shit again. We only just got out of the Hux situation!”

 

“Be that way. I'm doing whether you're coming or not, sweetheart.” He replied nonchalantly, putting a neat ruled like through his last line of written work. 

 

“One, stop with the sweetheart. Two, don't make me tell your mother.” She leant further towards him, trying to prove her point. 

 

“You wouldn't.” He brushed it off with a wave of his hand, flicking through the books in front of him.

 

“You don't know that.” She bit down on her lip to hold back her smile.

 

“Yes I do.”

 

“Leia,” Rey called, hoping to get her attention from across the library. “I have to tell you something--”

 

She was cut off by Ben lunging across the table to place his hands over her mouth, effectively silencing her. 

 

“What is it?” Leia replied, not looking across from where she was shelving books. 

 

She laughed as she wrestled with Ben, trying to get him off her, eyes glimmering with mirth. His panicked look was priceless, as was his expression when she managed to slip under him. “It's about Ben!”

 

“Oh, what's he up to this time?” Leia sighed, still not looking over at the chaos Rey and Ben were in the midst of orchestrating.

 

He gave her a dangerous look as he managed to place his hand over her mouth again. “It's nothing, mother!”

 

“I wasn't asking you, Ben.” Leia responded. 

 

Rey tried to slip free of him again, but to no avail. He had a good grip around her, and he was physically stronger as well. Damn those hours he spent in the gym. As a last resort, she licked his hand. 

 

“Ew,” Without thinking, he took his hand away and wiped it on her jumper, looking pretty grossed out. 

 

“Nevermind, it's all fine now.” She gave him a grin, holding back laughter. “I've sorted it out.”

 

“Oh, good. But if he annoys you again I'll sort him out.” Leia picked up another stack of books to shelve. 

 

“You absolute bitch.” He whispered so as not to be overheard, making it impossible for her not to laugh. 

 

After the art fiasco their friendship rate had increased tenfold, almost as though an apology for lost time. She'd managed to make him actually admit they were friends again and agreed to leave what happened in the argument behind them. This resulted in their friendship going from casual to incredibly close in only the past week, and as scared as she'd been that it would be the end of their friendship, it had actually made it better. Obviously, she wouldn't want the emotional torment back on them both. It was a good end to a bad situation, anyhow. 

 

“You know you love me really.” She grinned. 

 

“Take the piss,” He rolled his eyes. 

 

She gently pushed him off her and he sat back down in his chair opposite, going back to his books. She watched him do so before speaking again. 

 

“Okay. I don't really want to do it but someone needs to watch over you.”

 

“I know you want to. You don't have to pretend otherwise.”

 

She paused, licking her lips. “What's the likelihood of us getting arrested?”

 

“Oh, probably about ninety percent. For you, anyway.” He took a sip from her mug of coffee. 

 

“That's mine, thanks.” She moved it so it was right next to her by the edge of the table. 

 

“That's so sweet. I don't get how the fuck you can drink that.” He pulled a face. 

 

“Karma’s a bitch, Solo. Don't drink my fucking coffee. Anyway, why ninety percent? You're supposed to reassure me it'll all be fine.”

 

“It will be fine. But, statistically, if we get caught, those are the odds. You did ask.”

 

“Oh, I hate you. Fine. Whatever. I'm so done that I'm now on board with this for whatever godforsaken reason. I'm at the point in my academic career when anything vaguely illegal that might ruin my life seems appealing, so let's do it.” She agreed, rubbing her forehead. How her life had reached this point, she didn't know. She also didn't know at what point she decided she'd do pretty much anything for him. “But if it all goes wrong--”

 

“It won't.” He cut across. “Remember, cover stories. I'm collecting some work I left behind and you're helping me because it's too heavy to carry on my own.”

 

“That still doesn't explain why we'd be in Snoke’s office.”

 

“Fuck. We'll improvise, then.”

 

“We are  _ not  _ improvising!”

 

“Oh, so  _ you  _ have a better idea?”

 

“No, but--”

 

“Then hush.” He placed a finger over her lips. 

 

She rolled her eyes, hard. This plan was probably the dumbest thing she'd ever agreed to, with a success rate about as low as her level of sanity at that moment. “I'm just saying, we need to be careful.”

 

“We will be careful. Promise.” He replied, with more sincerity than she'd ever heard from him before. 

 

“Okay. And when it all goes wrong; I told you so.” She sat straight in her chair, opening the book she had been leaning on and getting back to work. Lifting her pen, she stared down at the blank page in front of her. Nothing came to mind. She held the pen between her teeth and flicked through the pages of the tome in front of her. In her peripheral vision, she felt his eyes on her. “What?” She demanded around the pen.

 

“Nothing.” He went back to his essay, writing at what felt like a hundred miles a minute. 

 

She sighed and went back to her own task, bullshitting a response. 

 

***

 

Ben set down two mugs of coffee on the table, then joined her on the sofa. “So. Only a few minutes to go.”

 

The sun was setting outside Ben's apartment and Rey watched it through the large glass panels. The sky was a mess of orange, red, pink, a little blue. 

 

“Do you ever feel like you're being watched here?” She asked tangentially, gesturing towards the windows. “It's so exposed.”

 

He took a long sip of his coffee and stretched out, weighing his reply. “I suppose. I see it more as I'm watching everyone else. It puts things into perspective most of the time.”

 

“Oh. I guess it does that too.” She pondered, hugging a cushion to her chest as she moved to look. “My place is the opposite of this in terms of windows. I think I have one, maximum. That excludes the frosted glass one in the bathroom.”

 

“When do I get to see your place?”

 

“Once you buy me dinner.” She grinned, reaching to nudge him in the leg with her foot. 

 

“What about we do that tomorrow?” He said, almost challenging her to accept. 

 

“You mean when we're in jail after getting caught?” She raised an eyebrow.

 

“We're not getting caught!” He exclaimed in exasperation, setting his mug down with a loud thump. “Do you not trust me?”

 

“Do you want the honest answer or…?” She said meekly, brushing her hair behind her ear. He gave her a look. “I trust you, I just don't trust our chances.”

 

“It's settled then. If we get out of this, which we will, we're going out for dinner and back to your place.” He decided. 

 

“Let me guess, I have no say in this?”

 

“Wow, sweetheart, you're learning.”

 

She laughed, jokingly rolling her eyes and shoving him lightly. He smiled back, just a little. 

 

“When you've finished your drink we should set off. The sun's down now.” He got up from the sofa, pulling on a dark jacket from the back of the door and zipping it up. 

 

She hastened to drink as he got ready, setting it on the side next to the sink once she'd finished. “Okay, let's go.” She smoothed down her skirts. 

 

“You're going to freeze in that.” He frowned, looking at her summery dress. 

 

It was true that the nights were starting to become colder, what with the steady approach of autumn, but she really didn't want to let go of the best and worst summer of her life just yet. “No, I'll be fine.” She shrugged, slipping past him to hold open the door. “It can't be  _ that  _ cold.”

 

“Don't be a fucking idiot. Take one of my jackets.” He caught her arm. 

 

“I said I'll be fine.” She stubbornly held her ground, lifting her chin to look him in the eye. 

 

“I'll give you absolutely no sympathy.”

 

“Oh, believe me, I'm used to that.” She snorted, restraining an eye roll.

 

He relented with a tut, letting go of her arm and walking out the door, keys jangling in his hands. “Are you coming or what?”

 

“I'm coming. Jesus, this isn't the Olympics. More haste, less speed.” Rey grumbled, catching the keys as he threw them to her and locking the door behind them.

 

He pretended not to hear her as they marched onwards out of the building, down the flights of stairs, outside the front door, and along the amber lit streets. It was very quiet, almost too much so, as she walked by his side, all too aware of the sounds of their footsteps echoing around them. 

 

They didn't talk on their journey; Ben too focused on the task at hand and Rey too nervous. As the tall shadowed buildings loomed over them she drew closer towards him, shivering slightly.

 

“You're cold, aren't you?” He said as they bumped shoulders.

 

“Nooo…” She tried to brush it off, ignoring her breath condensing in front of her. 

 

He let out an exasperated sigh. “You're useless. You're actually fucking useless.” He shrugged off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. “You make me so annoyed.”

 

She pulled it around her, reveling in its warmth, cheeks pink with the cold. “I know. But you still put up with me.”

 

“Biggest mistake I ever made.” He picked up the pace, sticking his hands in his pockets and appearing nonchalant. 

 

She watched him with a smile; admired the way the neon street signs from the clubs and convenience stores lit his face in ruby red and green. They continued their journey along the streets, taking the final turn to stand before The First Order Studios. Her breath hitched in her throat. 

 

“Okay. Whatever happens, we stick together. We don't say anything. Got it, sweetheart?” He said under his breath as he tried the door handle to the main entrance. The door didn't budge. 

 

“Yeah. Totally.” She breathed, watching nervously as he pulled a paperclip out of his pocket and put it in the keyhole. 

 

He struggled for a few minutes, cursing almost silently as the paperclip bent more and more under the strain of trying to unlock the door. 

 

“Um, Ben, do you want a hairpin instead?” She asked while he took his frustration out on the paperclip, bending it entirely out of shape.

 

“Yes. Yes, I would.” He chucked the ruined paperclip over his shoulder and held out his hand, not taking his eyes off the lock on the door. 

 

She began to work the hairpin out of her hair, looping it out of tangles and pulling against snags. 

 

“Hurry up.” He said impatiently, trying the door handle again. 

 

“I  _ am  _ hurrying.” She snapped, trying her hardest to pull it out. However, the more she sped up, the more tangled it became. 

 

“Do I have to do everything?” He turned around and swatted her hands out of the way, warm hands carefully but quickly removing it from the mess that was her hair. He then went back to work on the door. With a satisfying click, it opened. She let out a breath she'd long been holding. 

 

The studios were even more daunting at night, the near pitch darkness making her mind fill in intimidating details out of the shadows. Ben gave her the agreed signal and closed the door quietly behind them, eliminating the last bit of light. 

 

She was hyper aware of her breathing and how shallow it was, the loudness of every step and how the jacket rustled with each movement. She closed her eyes tightly for thirty seconds, then reopened them. The room came into sharper focus, her eyes adjusted slightly more. It wasn't perfect, but better. 

 

She began to walk up the steps, hand covered by the jacket and in the banister. The paranoid side of her wanted to eliminate the possibility of her fingerprints left behind; this side also yelling internally at her for agreeing to this stupid fucking plan. A quiet squeak of shoe against wood told her that Ben was behind, going at snail's pace to minimise noise. Even though the studios were technically closed for the night, the possibility that Snoke or Hux might still be there was large, he had told her over coffee earlier. The immense illegality of the situation played on her mind, making every new step feel like lifting weights on her feet. Moving together, they reached the third studio room. Ben gave her a look. She returned it. They nodded a count of three and then pushed open the door. It creaked loudly, causing her to jump. 

 

“Shit!” She winced, keeping her tone low despite the surprise. 

 

He took the first step inside, blindly reaching for the box of light switches. A click a couple seconds later, and a dim lamp illuminated the room. She joined him, helped out as he collected a few paintbrushes and shoved them into his pockets, smeared some spare paint on his hands and hers, then gently shifted the large canvas he'd left in the room earlier that day. Their cover plan was going well so far, better than she could've hoped. Despite the distinct feeling of unsettlement, it wasn't a complete disaster yet. 

 

“Ready to move, sweetheart?” He asked lowly, his hand lightly brushing against her shoulder to get her attention. 

 

“Yeah. God, this is terrifying.” She replied in the same whisper, reaching for his arm in the dark. When she found it, she looped hers around his, too nervous to be embarrassed. “It's like a horror film.”

 

The silence felt heavy on her chest, crushing. The steps towards the office were small, apprehensive, and she was more heavily reliant on him in those moments than she had been on anyone in her life. 

 

The door loomed in front of them, tall and foreboding, shrouded in a cloak like darkness. 

 

“Do you want me to?” He mimed opening the door. She nodded quickly. “Okay.”

 

Slowly, he turned the brass doorknob. Slowly still, he waited for the quiet click, then opened the door. 

 

Books and papers littered the floor, and she had to be careful when navigating around them to avoid causing carnage. He closed the door and turned on a torch, sweeping it across the desk. 

 

“What is it we're looking for, exactly?” She said quietly, quickly skimming over the pages of documents in front of her. 

 

“The terms of contract. They're probably hidden somewhere.”

 

“Filing cabinet?” She suggested, pointing it out. She tried the drawers, but they wouldn't open. “Shit, they're combination locked.”

 

“Fuck.” He groaned, trying to create a solution. “Try 1987.”

 

She did. The drawer still didn't open. 

 

“1407? 2014? 3472?” He listed, growing more and more agitated as none of the combinations worked. “Goddammit, his birthday, 1509?”

 

Footsteps from down below, ascending the stairs. Her panicked eyes met his and he switched off the torch, ducking behind the rows of cabinets with her. 

 

“We forgot to turn off the lamp,” She mouthed, listening as the footsteps paused somewhere outside the room. The sound of a light switch being flipped, and the low hum of electricity signalled the rooms on this floor being searched. “They know we're here.”

 

“Oh fuck.” He began quickly going through combination codes as the lights from the other rooms became visible through the gap under the door.

 

“What are you doing? We need to leave!” She hissed in his ear, tugging on his arm urgently. 

 

“One minute,” He pulled his arm from hers and went back to work on the combination lock hands surprisingly still for the stress of the situation. 

 

“We don't have one minute!” 

 

The footsteps were approaching faster and faster, louder and louder, all the while he was still going at the lock. “Nearly there,”

 

She shrunk back into the shadows, preparing to hide from whoever had come to end their intrusion and praying Ben would see sense and join her. 

 

The lock unclicked and, with fierce triumph, he took everything from it and shoved it against her, already working on redoing the lock before diving behind the cabinet as the door opened. A bright flashlight swept across the floor, a tall figure silhouetted in the doorway. In the shadows, she clung tightly to him, her breathing erratic though she tried to hide it. Whoever had come to investigate walked forwards in the room, slowly, methodically, and then stopped. Terrified, she held her breath, scared the slightest exhale would give away their location. The longest ten seconds of her life agonisingly passed. The documents felt hot under her jacket where she'd hidden them, as though they were burning her skin. She could feel Ben's chest rising and falling rapidly. They waited. Waited, until the figure turned off the torch and left the room. 

 

“Holy shit,” She said shakily, resting her head upon his shoulder as she regained her composure. “Shit.”

 

“We need to go.” He helped her up a few moments later, supporting her with his arm around her shoulders. “You've got the papers?”

 

“Yeah.” She patted them under her jacket, breathing still uneven. “How are we going to get out?”

 

“Window.” He replied. “We can't risk going out the way we came.”

 

She looked up at the window, wondering how far the drop was from the second floor to the ground. He pried it open. A gust of cold air filled the room, catching her off guard and making her shrink into the jacket. She restrained herself from looking down.

 

“It'll be okay. It's not that far. We'll do it slowly, descaling that drainpipe.” He carefully slipped out of the window, getting a firm grip around the pipe and against the wall. “Come on,”

 

She followed him, careful to close the window on her way out. Swallowing her fears, she began to move down the side of the building towards the ground. 

 

Upon reaching the ground, he began to walk along the streets, melting into the shadows. She held onto his arm, careful not to lose him after everything they'd just been through. They made it to the main road outside his flat before he finally emerged from the shrubbery. 

 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked, concerned. 

 

“I told you so.” She replied simply. 

 

They took the elevator up to his flat, the lights too bright white and the music too jovial. He fished his keys out of his pocket, chucked them towards her. She caught them and unlocked his door. They walked in, closed the door, and collapsed onto the sofa. Rey removed the papers from the jacket and placed them on the table before curling up with a cushion and a yawn, leaning against his shoulder. Instinctively, he put his arm loosely around her. 

 

“That was the worst thing I've ever done.” She murmured, her face against his shoulder causing the words to muffle. “I can't believe we pulled it off.”

 

“Would you do it again?” He asked, pulling up his own cushion to lay his head on. 

 

“You know I'd do anything for you, idiot.” She hit him lightly on the arm. 

 

“You would?” He asked, taken aback by how sincere she sounded even late at night. 

 

“Yeah.” She replied with a loud yawn. “You'd so be dead without me.”

 

He laughed a little. “I'm sure it's the other way around. You're the one who was most freaked out.”

 

“Fucking dick.” She spoke without true feeling, smiling and closing her eyes.

 

“Language, sweetheart.” He chided jokingly.

 

“Fuck off and let me sleep.”

 

He laughed again but made more room for her to lie down on the sofa, gently moving so he was on the floor without disturbing her. Without further discussion, without review of the night's events or the fear of being caught on their minds, they slept. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY FIRST EXAM IS OVER (ish) !!!  
> I had my drama devised set design and paperwork all due in last week and I'm so so happy it's done!  
> So happy, in fact, that I've tried to write a happy chapter lol :')  
> Love yall, thanks for the support  
> \- brie xxx

Rey awoke to the sound of a kettle whistling and the smell of something cooking. She yawned, slowly sat up, and tried to adjust her eyes to the blinding light from the sun outside.

 

“Oh, you're awake.”

 

She stretched out, holding back another yawn. “Are you cooking? That's so domestic.”

 

Ben snorted, stirring the spoon around the pan on the stove. “Don't get used to it.”

 

“Don't get used to it,” She imitated in a deep voice, swinging her legs round and off the sofa so she could stand up. 

 

“Don't mock me,” He warned, brandishing the spoon in her direction. 

 

“Don't mock me,” She grinned, snatching the spoon and pointing it at him.

 

“Take the piss,” He tried to take it back but she held it out of reach. “It's too fucking early for this.”

 

“Take the piss--” She yawned despite herself. They stopped, looked at each other. A smile broke out across her face and soon on his too, until they were both grinning widely. He placed his hand in the spoon, tried to take it back from her. She held onto it tightly. He tugged. She didn't relent. They looked at each other again. He raised an eyebrow, pulling with a little more force. Stubbornly, she pulled back, securing her grip around it. 

 

The smoke alarm sounded, startling her out of it. The blaring noise made her wince, wrinkling her nose as she hastened to grab something with which to fan the smoke around the alarm. While she jumped up and down, flailing it madly, he returned to the pan and quickly turned off the stove. 

 

“You made me burn the eggs, great.” He pushed the blackened mush around, face disgusted at how grim it looked.

 

“It wasn't my fault!” She hit him incredulously with the tea towel.

 

“It so was. If you hadn't been talking, this wouldn't have happened.” He ducked her next swat and carried the pan to the sink where he began to wash it out. 

 

“Ugh, you're the actual worst.” She sighed, searching through his cupboards and fridge for more breakfasty ingredients.

 

“Funny how you say that. You don't mean it.” He commented, scrubbing away. 

 

She paused for a moment while rifling through the cutlery drawer. “It's not like I try and hide it, unlike someone.”

 

“Sweetheart, if I was hiding something, you'd know.”

 

Somehow she severely doubted that. She considered herself generally good at reading people, yet Ben was one of those people that just didn't make sense. He was hot and cold, annoying and good company, a complete dick and her best friend. “Pfft. No. You're out of eggs now, and I can't find anything else.”

 

“Don't say ‘you’ as though you had no involvement in this.”

 

“Oh, shut up. Let's go out for breakfast. We are  _ not  _ the domestic dream team I was wishing we'd be.” 

 

“You need to brush your hair. It's a mess.” He threw her a hairbrush from on the table. She caught it precariously. 

 

“Thanks?” She began tugging it through her hair. “I don't know whether to be offended that you called me a mess or grateful that you gave me a brush.”

 

“Be both. Where are we going for breakfast?” He rinsed the pan out and left it to dry on the side of the sink.

 

“Uhh,” She racked her brains for places at a relatively reasonable price. “The café near the square? You know, the one you met Rose in?”

 

“No, boring.” He dismissed. 

 

“Okay. Apparently there's a place near the shopping centre.”

 

“No, Hux goes there regularly.”

 

“Our coffee shop serves croissants?”

 

“No, predictable.”

 

Taken aback, she frowned. “Why did you ask me if you're just going to shoot down all of my ideas?”

 

“I just remembered. Mother gave me vouchers to go to the trendy hip place downtown.” He crossed the room and dug his wallet out if his pocket, retrieving a gift card. 

 

“Woah, the fuck? I swear that's super expensive. I don't wanna leech off of you.” She looked at the vouchers for the restaurant, 

 

“The only thing you're leeching off me is my will to live.” 

 

“Ha ha. Very funny.” She replied sarcastically. “Why did Leia give them to you anyway?”

 

“Well,” He took a second to compose his thoughts and spoke slowly and clearly. “Mother seems to be under the impression that we're involved. So she gave me these for ‘our next date’.”

 

“Oh my god,” She grinned at his downtrodden expression. “That's actually hilarious. I fucking love her.”

 

“It's not hilarious when she keeps asking me how you are every five seconds. As if I know? You make literally no sense.” He groaned, shaking his head.

 

“Weird, I think that about you. And you're very het up about this.” She attempted to stifle her laugh and failed. “This is so stupidly funny.”

 

“Well, i'm glad you get some amusement out of my suffering.” He pushed her lightly in the shoulder.

 

“You're so melodramatic, take the piss.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back. Before it could escalate into another play fight, she put her shoes on and the hairbrush down. “Let's go. What're you waiting for?”

 

“Everything's a hundred miles a minute with you, isn't it?” He muttered, getting his keys from their spot on the table, putting on one of his many leather jackets, running his fingers through his hair, and then his wallet into the pockets of his black jeans. 

 

“Yep. That's right.” She said almost proudly. “I wait for no-one.”

 

“Except me, evidently.”

 

“I wait for no-one except you.” She amended. 

 

“Better. More truthful.” He nodded approvingly.

 

Rey muttered something under her breath and moved aside so he could open the door. He didn't comment on whatever she had said, too busy wrapped up in his own concerns.

 

They took the stairs down to the ground floor, as per her request (becoming more fit was one of her new academic year resolutions), but after the fifth flight she was starting to regret it. She collected herself though and pushed on. 

 

By the time they reached the restaurant, she could've eaten a horse. 

 

“I'm so hungry I'm gonna die,” She complained as he held open the door for her, sighing as he did so. “Intense flashbacks to high-school incoming.”

 

“Oh, just get inside.” He ushered her in, his hand on the small of her back. 

 

She obliged, not without another sigh. 

 

They were lead to a table by a well mannered waiter and placed orders for cups of coffee and stacks of toast; with jam for her, and marmite for him. 

 

“Ew, marmite?” She wrinkled her nose. “What demon are you?”

 

“Marmite is nice,” He replied defensively, folding his menu and setting it down on the table.

 

“No it's not. It's the devil incarnate. Why would you ruin toast like that?” She pushed his plate further across the table towards him and away from her. 

 

He laughed, surprised by her strong reaction. “What on earth do you have against marmite?”

 

“Literally everything. It's horrible!” She kept the same grossed out expression on her face at the mere thought. “It stinks. And it betrayed me. When I was like 5 I ate a sandwich thinking it was Nutella but it was fucking marmite. I've had trust issues ever since.”

 

He spread some against a new slice of toast and held it out in her direction, wafting it in front of her face. “Take a bite.”

 

“Ewwwww, no!” She turned her face away. 

 

He tapped the toast against the corner of her mouth. “Try it. You'll like it.”

 

She tentatively took a tiny bite off the corner. 

 

“Oh come on, you didn't even get a bit with any on it.” He rolled his eyes. 

 

“That was the point.” She gave him a wink and took a sip of her coffee, leaning back as he taunted her with toast. “Noo, stop it.” She laughed. “Don't bully me.”

 

“It's actually really good. Face your past trauma.”

 

“Fine. But when I vomit, it's your fault.” She took a larger bite, making pointedly sure to get one with the marmite on so he couldn't make her take another. It was still strange, causing her to look thoroughly grumpy as she chewed, but it was a lot better than she remembered. 

 

Ben watched her with a satisfied smile. “You like it. Don't you?”

 

“Noooo,” She lied, taking a huge sip of coffee and looking down at the list of yoghurts on the menu. “It wasn't good.”

 

“You did.” He folded his arms and leant back in his chair, smirking. 

 

“Okay, I did. Fine, I admit it.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “But I wouldn't choose to have it again. So hush.”

 

He just laughed. 

 

The waiter returned at that moment with a selection of yoghurt, fruit, and cereal. She gratefully accepted, smothering her vanilla yoghurt with strawberries. “Heck yes. I love not going for breakfast with Finn. I can actually have strawberries without anyone dying.”

 

“That's a shit ton of strawberries.” He watched as she continued to put more into her dish. “Why not put in some raspberries? Blueberries? Have some semblance of variety?”

 

“Nah. I'm making the most of this moment.” She took a spoonful and ate it with a satisfied smile. “Délicieux.”

 

“Don't speak French. I only learned Spanish,” He topped his yoghurt with a more balanced variety of nuts and fruits.

 

“Est-ce que tu es très, très ennuyeux ? Oui, malheureusement, l'espagnol ce n'est pas intéressant ou ludique.” She recited random phrases she could remember from high school, which were most likely incorrect. “Si j'avais le choix, je créerais un journal. Euhh, quelle horreur ! Mon dieu ! Je ne suis pas un démon !”

 

“I have no idea what you're saying, and I'm thinking that you don't either.” 

 

She laughed at the accuracy of his statement. “C'est vrai.”

 

“The only thing I can say is oui. And bonjour. Not very helpful, I know. But I'm pretty fluent in Spanish.”

 

“Ooh, that's so cool! Tell me something fun,” She leant forward in her seat, anticipating. 

 

“¿Qué se siente al ser la mujer más guapa en esta sala?” 

 

“Okay, now I have no idea what that means. Love that for me.” She sat back, smiling. “But I hope it wasn't offensive.”

 

“Oh, it totally was. I completely insulted you, your family, and your cow.” He finished his yoghurt without further explanation. 

 

“Right. Great.” She glanced back down at the menu. “Are we doing eggs?”

 

“No. I refuse to give in to the eggs here.” He put his menu back in the holder, finishing his coffee. 

 

“We'll,  _ I'm  _ doing eggs. Even if you're not going to join me.” She flagged down the waiter and requested scrambled eggs with smoked salmon. 

 

“Bitch. That's exactly what I was trying to make for us earlier.”

 

“I know.” She gave him a sweet smile. 

 

“Take the piss.” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “You are  _ so  _ annoying.”

 

“Love you too, Benjamin.” She grinned widely. 

 

“Fucking--” He shook his head at the mirth she was getting from his reactions. “If you call me by my full name again I'm never speaking to you ever again. Don't try it.”

 

“I'll save it for a special occasion.”

 

“Stop.”

 

“Never.”

 

“Cease.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“End.”

 

“Nada.”

 

“Give up.”

 

“Bill.”

 

“What?” He frowned, confused. 

 

“L'addition. The bill's in front of you.” She gestured to the little silver dish with a receipt on it. 

 

“Right.” He sorted out the payment. “Shall we book?”

 

“That's such an 80s phrase.” She smiled. “But yes. I've had enough of fancy eggs.”

 

“That's what you get for disrespecting my cooking. It's a sign that mine was way better.”

 

“Of course. I'm sure if I'd ignored the blanketed clumps and the mysterious odour they would've been delicious.” She patted him on the shoulder, pretending to be condescending. 

 

“They had potential.”

 

“Compost potential.”

 

“You suck, Rey.”

 

“So do you, Ben.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of the random spanish/French!
> 
> Rey: Are you very, very annoying? Yes, unfortunately, Spanish is not interesting or fun. If I had the choice, I'd create a newspaper. How terrible! My god! I'm not a démon! 
> 
> Ben: How does it feel to be the most beautiful girl in the room?


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because I am That Bitch™ I now have a tumblr so check it out and be nice lol!  
> https://hotkniferr.tumblr.com  
> Idk how to link that because ao3 is so confusing  
> Absolute tangent but I didn't realise how old some of you are that read this?? Not in a mean way but I'm 16?? And you still put up with this???!  
> That's my convoluted way of saying ily and merry xmas  
> \- brie <3

“So, let's get this straight.” Rey said from around her tissues, voice hoarse from coughing. “Your dad has worked in law and you _never_ thought to ask him about your dumbass contract?”

 

“That is correct.” He replied, perfectly apathetic. He chucked a packet of strepsils in her direction, which hit her on the chin. “Whoops, that actually wasn't intentional for once.”

 

“I can't believe you. You're really an entirely different breed.” She threw down her water bottle and it landed with a thump on her carpeted floor. “I'm so done. So, so done.”

 

“Calm the fuck down,” He picked it up and placed it on her bedside stand. “Stress is bad for illness, as is anger.”

 

“I don't care, I just don't understand how your brain works! Why are you so against your family that when you need help and know they can offer it you just turn a blind eye?” She groaned, rubbing her forehead. “I'm now ninety percent sure that your stupidity is the reason for all of this.”

 

“Hey, I'm way smarter than you. I'm older. I have more life experience.” He replied, surprisingly offended. “What do you have? An online test result from buzzfeed called ‘give us your favourite pizza toppings and we'll tell you your iq?’”

 

“Right, don't expose my 3am self.” She laughed slightly and took a long sip of her water, clearing her throat. “Just because I fall down internet rabbit holes and you don't,”

 

“I spend my nights working. Or reading. Because I'm an intellectual, unlike you.” He teased her, flicking her on the forehead. She winced dramatically.

 

“Ha! You, an intellectual?” She teased back, kicking him lightly with her foot. “I find that really hard to believe.”

 

“Even after all the essays I've ghostwritten for you?”

 

“Even after those, yes. And it wasn't ghostwriting per se, it was only, like, planning guidance and fake teaching. Jokes aside, though, you have been really helpful. I got back the one you stayed up all night to help me with the other day and guess what!” She grinned at him, eyes lighting up.

 

“What?” He supplied.

 

“I got 97%! The professor said it was the best in the class and he was really surprised with how well I was doing.”

 

“What happened to the other 3%?” He asked, deadpan.

 

“Oh, go fuck yourself.” She groaned and hit him on the shoulder with her pillow. He immediately grabbed another to hit her back, which she attempted to deflect to no avail. They fought for a few minutes; Rey wildly swinging the pillow amidst coughs and Ben skillfully defending against every hit, forcing her to retreat backwards up her bed.

 

“Oh my god, stop being good at pillow fights,” She laughed as he blocked another attempt of a hit with ease. She shuffled backwards again, tangled in the blankets and bedsheets, until her back came into contact with the wall.

 

“Start becoming good at them,” He countered, leaning forward to lightly swipe the pillow over her head, messing up her hair.

 

Looking up at him, his eyes dark but warm, his hand propping him up on the wall, she dropped her pillow on the bed in surrender. He followed suit, still giving her rapturous attention. She could feel his breath on her face and smell coffee and leather, see the way his eyes flitted downwards and then back up to meet her gaze.

 

Involuntarily, she sneezed.

 

Luckily, Ben seemed to have sensed it coming as he'd moved out the way at the last moment. Sat back with a more respectable distance between them, he passed her a box of tissues. “If you end up giving me your stupid fucking cold, I swear to god.”

 

“It's not my fault!” She flopped back onto the sheets, laying so she could look up at the ceiling and sigh. “I wish I wasn't ill! And I wish I knew what to do about you and the fucking contract!”

 

“Calm.” He reminded her, crossing his legs to sit more comfortably next to her. “And take your medicine. You'll feel worse if you don't.”

 

“But it exhausts me,” She complained, looking accusingly at the packet of cold and flu capsules on her bedside table.

 

“It has caffeine in it, so that line of argument makes absolutely no sense.”

 

“You make absolutely no sense.” She grumbled.

 

“Anyway, you told me you'd done some research into contracts, so why don't you just tell me that and we'll sort out a solution later or something.”

 

“Fine. Fine.” She gave in, taking a couple of the capsules with a small gulp of water. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and picked up a heavy tome, flicking through the pages. “So, from what I remember, if a contract is illegal then it's void and unenforceable by the law. Technically, then, if you breach the terms of contract, no legal action can be taken against you as the whole thing was unlawful in the first place.”

 

“Which is great and all, but I have to prove it's illegal first. If they don't see it as such then I'm fucked, royally fucked.” He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair, the other deep inside his leather jacket pocket.

 

“Right, don't give up hope yet. Proving it illegal should be easy.” She reprimanded him.

 

“Key word: should.” He interjected with apathy.

 

She tried not to let his defense mechanism faze her, ignoring him shutting her out. “Shut up. If the contract states an illegal activity needs to be carried out by the employee, which I'm pretty sure this does, then by default it's void. The only problem is if it's more sneaky, which I have suspicion this might be unfortunately, where an illegal activity isn't outright stated but something related to it that is legal is stated instead. Basically, we have a lot of careful work to do. Including a lot of English style analysis.”

 

“I always hated the law.” He muttered. “Too many grey areas.”

 

“The only problem is,” She hesitated a second, then quickly looked through the book to find the correct page. She found the passage she was looking for, the turned it to face him. “Look, here, ‘An illegal contract will prevent a party from receiving damages for breach of contract. It also prevents recovery based on other theories such as contract rescission or restitutionary damages.’ So you'll get out of the contract, but that's it. Because it's treated like the contract never existed in the first place, Snoke doesn't owe you anything. Which fucking sucks, but that's as good as we can do. Has Snoke noticed his copy of the contract is missing yet, by the way?”

 

“He's noticed. He's spent the past week bitching about it to anyone who will listen. Just Hux, basically.”

 

“Oh, shit.” She bit her lip in worry, clasping her hands in her lap. “We need to work quickly, then.”

 

“Exactly. They haven't figured out we've got anything to do with it yet, but they know about the break in and the mess caused in the office. Hopefully, that will be enough of a cover to convince them that the contract has just been lost in the war zone from when the thieves turned the place upside down or something fucking dumb like that.”

 

“Sometimes I wonder how you get yourself into these situations. You really are the King of Disaster.”

 

“Oh, me too. I seem to have an affinity for it.”

 

“Luckily, there's a good side.” She turned to a few pages later in the book. “Employment tribunals are generally free. So if we can get someone to help us with your case and gather enough evidence, it shouldn't be that financially damaging to us.”

 

“Wow. We could have a holiday in celebration.”

 

“I know you're being sarcastic, but honestly a break would do so much good. We could go to a seaside! Or on a cruise! Or just go on a random train and see where we end up!” She smiled wistfully, thoroughly distracted. “Promise me after everything is over we'll go do something together.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. Sure. You're going off on a tangent.” He reminded her, shrugging off his jacket and chucking it in the floor. He stretched out, relaxing his muscles from where they'd become stiff from tending to her for so long.

 

“Sorry, okay, back to the case at hand. So now we need to find a lawyer for further advice. As good as I'd say my research skills are, and as equipped as the library is, I feel like we could be missing something and it would be better to have someone who actually knows what they're doing get involved.” She closed the book, resulting in a cloud of dust which made her cough again, then placed it on the bedside table, looking up at him. “We can start online. There's probably a list somewhere on the web of contracty lawyers. Ooh, and there's a few leaflets I found while in town with Rose a couple days ago in that drawer. Can you grab it for me?”

 

“We don't have to look that far.” He replied, but retrieved them anyway, reading through them with a critical expression on his face.

 

“What do you mean?” Confused, she tilted her head slightly.

 

“We can just ask my father.”

 

She stopped, blinked. Frowning, she took a second to process what he'd said, as it was so unexpected and from the left field that it had momentarily stumped her. “You'd be okay with that? I thought you hated him. You said that you didn't want anything to do with him.”

 

“We'll, yes.” He said briskly, stiffening slightly. “That's true. But you said we needed help, and he's available.”

 

“Ben Solo,” She said, looking at him in a combination of admiration and bewilderment. “You are the most confusing person I've ever met.”

 

“Rey No Last Name, I could say the same to you. I give you what you ask for, and you spend the next ten minutes looking shook.” He huffed haughtily, folding his arms in defense.

 

“Now don't go all emotionally distant on me, unfold your arms,” She sat up and leant over to try and pry his arms apart. “That was early friendship us, not how we act now. Now we're overly open and know each others darkest secrets.”

 

He scoffed. “Go on then, what's my darkest secret? Because I have no idea what yours is.”

 

“Your darkest secret is your love for marmite which should really stay secret, as it's absolutely disgusting.” She grinned at him.

 

Despite himself, a smile broke out across his face and he relaxed his arms. “You're ridiculous.”

 

“But you put up with me anyway because I'm so amazing.” She joked, bringing her box of tissues forward with her.

 

“Oh, _totally._ You're beautiful and all that.” He rolled his eyes, though he was still smiling.

 

“Like a storm destroying the coastline and shit,” She teased him.

 

“Take the piss.”

 

“And like someone punching someone else and ending up with bruised knuckles,”

 

“This isn't funny,”

 

“Like the stars being balls of flaming, destructive gas,”

 

“Fuck, shut up,”

 

“Oh, go on, make me.” She revelled in the fact she was making him more and more embarrassed by quoting his speech from the ball.

 

“Maybe I will.” He replied without much thought.

 

They stared each other down; she grinned, he looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

 

“You're not very good at keeping me quiet.” She observed, still openly grinning, her face close to his. He didn't move back, accepting the challenge, something indiscernible shifting in his expression. She watched him curiously.

 

“Please don't sneeze again.” He covered over whatever had slipped, looking at her in his usual neutral fashion.

 

“I'll try not to,” She rolled her eyes, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders that she hadn't noticed was there in the first place.

 

“Anyway,” He briskly moved the topic of conversation back to the pressing issue. “We should call my father and arrange something.”

 

“Are you sure? I mean, we could always do something else. It wouldn't be that difficult. Don't pressure yourself to do this if you don't want to,” Rey tried to intervene out of worry for him. “I can call for you if that's easier?”

 

“Don't mother me. I can do this myself.” He took his phone out of his pocket and dialled the number.

 

“Um, you're kind of jumping into this headfirst,” She said as she watched his thumb hover above the call button. “Have you actually thought any of what you're going to say through?”

 

“Don't need to.” He responded as he pressed the button. The sound of the dialling tone filled the room. Despairingly, she watched on without further intervention.

 

“Hello?” Han’s voice rang out through the speaker, made to sound tinny and distorted by the line and the background noise.

 

“It's Ben.”

 

“Oh! I can't say this is what I expected.” Han’s tone seemed almost apprehensive; she placed a hand over Ben's.

 

“I… I need your help. Can we - - can we talk later in person?” He took her hand as he spoke across the line, squeezing it lightly. She couldn't tell whether it was supposed to reassure her or him. “It's… Pretty complicated, deep shit. I can't explain all of it right now.”

 

“Okay,”

 

“It's a legal thing.”

 

“Kid, don't tell me you're being imprisoned again.”

 

“Again?!” She mouthed at him, shocked.

 

“No, no, it's just advice. I haven't done anything illegal. Well, debatable. It's tricky.” He ignored her and tried to carry on the explanation, fumbling over words and phrasing in a way she'd never seen him do so before. “I thought you'd know what to do.”

 

“I'm free to meet up with you around eight tonight. Where works? The pub next to the water fountains, town centre?”

 

“Probably somewhere more private.”

 

“Right. Come round to my place then. You do still know the address?”

 

“Yes,” He mumbled.

 

“Bring round whatever you need.” Han stopped for a few seconds, leaving the only sound on the other end of the line a deep sigh. “Ben, I'm sorry.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I hate we're like this now.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I never meant to hurt you.”

 

“I know.”

 

Heavy silence.

 

“See you later, kid.” Han finished with another sigh.

 

“Yes.” Ben agreed, then quickly ended the phone call.

 

“Damn.” She said, because she didn't know what else to. “That was…”

 

“Exactly.” He kept his loose grip around her hand, using his other hand to brush his mess of hair out of the way of his face, expression neutral. Her heart fell slightly at his distancing, but she knew by now not to take it personally. She wasn't the only one with emotional baggage.

 

“So. Guess we're taking everything over at eight.” She took a long sip of water, then cleared her throat. “This should be interesting.”

 

“Interesting is a fucking light way of putting it,” He replied, already working on going back to his usual defensive self.

 

“This will help, at least. We're making progress.” She reassured him, knocking his shoulder gently with her own. “Positivity, Ben.”

 

“Unlike you, I'm not a ray of sunshine. I can't just turn it on like a switch.”

 

“I wish I could give you my optimism, then."

 

“As do I. But your incompetence strikes again.”

 

“You're so mean!” She laughed, startled. “If anything, you're the incompetent one.”

 

He gave her the smallest of smiles, genuine nonetheless. “We're both pretty shit, aren't we?”

 

“We are.” She agreed. “But we try. And that's what matters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry crisis folks  
> (im gonna try my hardest to update once more before xmas!)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY DO I ALWAYS DO THIS  
> sorry I like,,,, promised more regular updates  
> Basically I'm in my gcse year which is when in Britain you have lots of exams for every subject that determine what you can study and where you can study eg. University later on when I'm 18 so I've had a lot of work and revision for the summer  
> In good news I got back my drama coursework and got an 8 (A*)  
> And in my mock exams I got 9s in English literature and language (A**)  
> Needless to say I'm stressed but pretty chuffed  
> Love u all soooo much!!  
> \- brie xx

“Just knock.”

 

“No!”

 

“Ben, I swear to god, just knock on the door, it's not that hard!” Shivering in the night air, she pulled her coat around her as tightly as possible in hopes of conserving warmth. Her breath condensed in front of her in little clouds, and she could feel the blood flush in her cheeks from the cold temperature. 

 

They had been standing outside Han Solo's house for five minutes, debating whether or not to turn back and go home or finish what they'd come here to do. Rey, obviously, was championing getting all of this legal stuff sorted out as quickly as possible, which included going into Han’s house as they'd planned. Ben, on the other hand was starting to have some form of regret sinking in from asking to come round on the phone call. He was trying every excuse in the book to not knock on the door and go inside, to the point where Rey was finding it exhausting, mentally and physically. 

 

“Fine then. I'll do it.” She stepped passed him and gave the door a firm rap to announce their presence. Through the frosted glass they could see a warm yellow lamp being switched on and a silhouette approaching them, right up until the door was opened.

 

“Ben.” Han held his arms awkwardly by his sides, unsure whether or not to pull his son in for a hug, handshake, or to just remain still. 

 

Ben didn't offer any help, standing stock still, expression carefully blank. Rey resisted the urge to take his hand. “Father.”

 

“Who's your girl?”

 

“I'm Rey, Ben's friend. We met briefly at the art show.” She smiled and held out her hand, trying to play up her bubbly side to diffuse the tension that had fallen over them. “It's good to see you again in a less busy setting.”

 

Han shook her hand. “Pleasure. I hope you're a good influence, god knows he needs one.”

 

“Oh, I'd certainly hope so.” She laughed, flashing a grin at Ben. “He's definitely a bad influence.”

 

“You're the worst.” Ben said simply, crossing his arms. 

 

“I can see.” Han stepped out of the doorway into his hall. “We'll, don't loiter here in the cold. Come on in, leave your shoes under the radiator.”

 

They both shuffled inside, squeezing past through the narrow hall. Standing on one leg, she tried to take off her shoes without falling over. The first one came off successfully, but the second was more trouble. She began to tip to the side, saved only by Ben's shoulder propping her up. She gave him a grateful look, he rolled his eyes. Typical. She had the feeling that no matter how many nice things he did he would never admit to them being intentional or out of the goodness of his heart. 

 

Once she'd removed her shoes, she put them where Ben's father had asked and then stood awkwardly, arms folded around herself. The room was warm, but she was so nervous for Ben and how this whole interaction was going to go that she couldn't help but fold into herself. She wanted to be a strong figure for him to encourage his relationship with his father to repair for long enough to get him out of the snoke scenario, but it was beginning to take a toll on her too. As much as she wished she could just forget the art show drama and forgive him and move in without thinking much more of it, honestly she was still hurt. She tried to reassure herself that she was just over thinking again and that was it. He'd apologised, he'd admitted it was shitty, and they were going to move in. That didn't make it  _ okay  _ but at least it made it better.

 

“Both of you, do come through to the living room.” Han beckoned them through, pulling a couple of chairs up to the coffee table in the centre of the room. A few magazines were scattered across it along with a cold, half finished mug of coffee, all of which he scooped up and moved out if their way before sitting down. Ben and Rey sat down too on the opposite side of the table. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

 

Rey took Ben's hand under the table, gave it a light squeeze. Steeling himself, he spoke. “I'm kind of in deep shit.”

 

“You don't say.” Han interjected, shaking his head as though this conversation had been a long time coming. “I've known that for years.”

 

“Well. It's got a lot worse. You know my job, it's kind of… Not exactly what I told you it was.” Ben avoided eye contact with his father's appraising look, instead fixating on the table in front of them.

 

“Go on.” His father prompted, leaning forward attentively, hands clasped.

 

“It's not just commission on my own pieces of art. It's sort of illegal. The real job is forgery, and the art show was just a cover for people to commission the First Order for fakes to be made to resell for money. I accepted when Snoke offered me the job because I was broke and needed to pay for college, not understanding what the job would entail, but the contract chained me in and now I can't leave. He's got threats against me, promises to ruin my career through getting me arrested, and if I fuck up he can take any cut of my paycheck he likes.” He explained, holding tightly onto her hand the whole time for grounding. “Life's been a misery but I couldn't go to anyone.”

 

“Why didn't you come to me, kid? You know despite anything between us I would've helped you before it got to this point.” Han looked almost broken, his expression softened with pain and guilt from not helping his son.

 

“Because you're not exactly the kind of father a man can go to when he's in trouble, that's why!” Ben exploded, making her jump. 

 

“Ben…” Han sighed, desolate. “I'm sorry.”

 

“I know, I know. Everybody's fucking  _ sorry _ .” Seeming to regain control over his emotions, he took a deep breath and continued with a less seething tone. “I wanted to but I couldn't. I thought you'd throw me out or be mad or something. I never expected you to understand because you were never there. Now I'm stuck in a life of crime with no hope of escape and I don't know what to do.”

 

“There is hope. The contract seems illegal.” She said quietly, looking up at him imploringly. When he avoided looking at her too, she nudged him to get his attention. “It's not over yet. There's always a choice.”

 

“It doesn't feel like it. Snoke has the best defense team in the country.” He dismissed, glancing at her but not properly. “I doubt I'll get out of this unscathed.”

 

“Scathed is better than stuck forever.” She tried.

 

“Kid, look. Where's the contract?” Han cut in, hoping to move the conversation forward so that the situation could be resolved quickly. 

 

“Snoke took my copy and hid it somewhere, but I've got his.” He placed it on the table in front of his father, pushing it across slowly as though it could combust. 

 

“Please don't tell me you got this illegally.” Han sighed as he began to flick through it, looking for anything that would immediately stand out as sketchy. 

 

“Um, no comment.”

 

Another heavy sigh. Han continued to flick through the contact papers in silence, Rey and Ben sitting across and not saying anything so they didn't distract him.

 

After a period of around ten minutes, Han closed the page he was reading and closed his eyes, thinking hard. “I'm going to have to look over this for a few days. I can tell that Snoke has some kind of background in law or someone employed who does as the way the contract is written makes it difficult to argue your side. But I'll do what I can and keep you updated.”

 

“Thank you,” Rey smiled, relieved that Han seemed to be completely on board to help them get Ben out of the fiasco Snoke had put him in. She looked at Ben, cueing him to also thank Han.

 

For a minute he looked as though he wasn't going to. But then he swallowed his pride (to her relief) and thanked his father too, albeit stiffly. Han bid them both goodnight, apologised for the lack of food, and sent them on their way with the promise of updates as soon as anything happened. 

 

Once they were outside and walking back, arms linked together through her direction and him not being bothered enough to stop her, she posed the question that had been plaguing her since they had started talking again after the argument. “Are you okay? As in genuinely, definitely okay?”

 

“I don't know.” Ben admitted, looking ahead at the path in front of them rather than her in the way he often did when experiencing emotions he didn't want to face. The red, orange, yellow leaves fell in spiralling patterns around them as autumn began to finally set in. “No? Yes? Somewhere in between?”

 

“I know that feeling. Just if you wanna talk about emotions or shit you know I'll always listen. God knows you've dealt with enough of my breakdowns for me to return the favour.”

 

“I'll bear it in mind.” He gave her a brief flash of a true smile before turning back to facing ahead. “And the bit about your breakdowns is true. In the time we've known each other have you had one that  _ hasn't  _ been while I'm there, the most emotionally unavailable person you could've chosen?”

 

She considered it, shrugged. “I think maybe two?”

 

He rolled his eyes, endeared rather than exasperated. “You're such a mess.”

 

“Oh, believe me, I know that already.” She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walked. “You don't have to tell me.”

 

“A hot mess.” He amended.

 

“Aww, you think I'm hot?” She grinned up at him widely.

 

“I think that you're disorganized, disheveled, and self-destructive.”

 

“But still attractive?”

 

“Don't push it.”

 

×××

 

“Rey. it's Finn, I really, really need to tell you something. Please call me back as soon as possible. Thanks, love you.”

 

She listened to her voicemail in her apartment, partway through packing an overnight bag. She'd promised Ben to stay over at his place so that whenever there were any updates they'd be there together to sort it out, so was dashing about and shoving clothes and toiletries into any spare inch of room she could find in her bag. On realising she'd missed multiple calls from Finn earlier that evening she'd been planning on calling him back, but her brain had been so consumed by Ben's situation that she hadn't yet had a chance to reply. 

 

Rey paused to diall Finn, resting the phone between her shoulder and her face awkwardly while rifling through her bathroom shelves, trying to decide how much shampoo to take. 

 

He picked up quickly. “Rey, thank god. How are you?”

 

“I'm alright, you? You seemed freaked on the voicemail you left. What's up?” She settled on a small bottle of coconut water shampoo, tossing it into a wash bag. “Oh shit, don't tell me you and Poe have had an argument over Ikea furniture already.”

 

Finn managed to laugh, though it sounded pretty forced. “No, it's not ikea. It's not even Poe.”

 

“Go on, I'm listening. Sorry if there's background noise. I'm packing.” She apologised, zipping closed her wash bag.

 

“What for?” He questioned, curious. 

 

“Staying at Ben's.” She said off handedly, carrying her stuff back through to her bedroom, still precariously balancing her phone.

 

“Oh, any reason?”

 

“Helping him with work.”

 

“Right. Have fun I guess.”

 

“But that's besides the point,” She steered the conversation topic back onto him. “Seriously, what's wrong?”

 

Finn took a deep sigh which crackled through the phone line. “I don't know how to tell you this.”

 

“You're beginning to worry me,” She laughed lightly, readjusting her phone's position with a brief brush of her hand.

 

“You know when we met?” He began, voice more high-pitched than usual. She wasn't sure why, but he sounded almost nervous to talk about whatever was bothering him. 

 

“Yeah, when you ran into my English Lit class, apologised for being an hour late, sat down in the seat next to me, introduced yourself and then realised you were in the wrong classroom?” She answered. 

 

“Yes, but I meant more along the lines of how busy I was.”

 

“Oh right, you had that sculpture project you were working on. For your fine art course you dropped six weeks later.” She corrected, smile evident in her tone. 

 

“I may or may not have sort of lied about that. I never took fine art.” He said apprehensively, and she could hear him shifting awkwardly in his seat.

 

“Was it just ordinary art and design? No shame in that, I won't think of you any less. It's just as respectable a degree, and since you dropped it anyway it really doesn't matter--”

 

“No, Rey, um, I didn't take any other course apart from Environmental Studies.” He cut across.

 

“Okay, I'm confused now.” She admitted, perching on the edge of her bed with her almost packed bag. “Can you just tell me what you're trying to without all this beating around the bush?”

 

“I was training to be part of The First Order.” He blurted.

 

“You  _ what _ ?!” Shocked, she tried not to drop her phone onto the floor. “ _ Finn _ \--”

 

“I needed money and it seemed like a good option. I could make things, I was good at marketing, and all the perks and the hours and the wages seemed amazing. It was like the universe had finally answered my prayers and was giving me a chance of a future. So I went in, requested training, and before I knew it I was part of the team. I didn't know everything about it, I didn't know about the forgery or the lies or the underground auctions. Everything seemed fine for the first year and that's why I applied to college. I had a sustainable income and a rude but well paying boss who seems to be doing what he could to help me.” He explained, tone getting more and more stressed and regretful as he continued. “It was only when I'd been with them a year and a half that I realised what was really going on. So I escaped at the last moment, the day Snoke was going to give me the contract.”

 

“Finn, I don't know what to say.” She felt numb with shock, as though her whole world had been turned upside down. “You worked for Snoke? With Ben? With Hux?”

 

“Not directly with Ben. Phasma was in charge of training, but I knew vaguely of him during my time there. Rey, I'm sorry for lying to you about it. I just didn't know how to get out and move on with my life.” He sighed, and it was as though she could see his pained expression. 

 

“Oh my god.” She flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling as though it would give her an explanation. “I just… Does Poe know? Or Rose? Or anyone?”

 

“Poe does. Rose doesn't. As stupid as it sounds, I couldn't bear losing either of you as friends over it so I didn't tell you, I didn't know how.” His voice was muffled and she was pretty sure that he had also flopped onto his bed, face in the pillows. “But after everything that happened with you and Ben I couldn't just not tell you anymore. I didn't want it to get too out of hand.”

 

“What do you want me to do?” She asked, hands over her face in distress as her phone slipped onto the bed. “Like, tell the lawyer? Tell Ben?”

 

“I don't know. I just wanted to tell you because it was stressing me out.” He responded, sounding as distressed as she felt. “I'm so sorry peanut. I feel terrible about hiding it from you.”

 

“No, don't feel bad.” She hastened to comfort him. “It really doesn't matter that much to me, I was just surprised. You're still my best friend. Please don't beat yourself up about it. Oh crap, I've gotta get going. Ben's waiting. But if you need to vent about anything or talk more about this text me, okay? Promise I'll reply and spend time with you. We can even go out soon if you want?”

 

“Yeah, thanks, Rey. Have fun or whatever at Ben's. Love you.”

 

“Love you, bye.” She hung up and put her phone into her bag, hoisting it over her shoulder and grabbing her keys from where she'd left them on her countertop. She locked up as she left, tucking her keys into her pocket and meeting Ben down in the entrance area.

 

“Ready?” He asked, looking down at her small bag. 

 

“Yeah, ready.”

 

“Have you got everything? That bag is small.”

 

“I'm a light packer. Don't come for me.”

 

“I'll come for you if I fucking want to.” He joked. 

 

“I'll fucking fight you.” She laughed, whacking him in the side with her bag. He grabbed it from her easily, holding it high above his head out of her reach and beginning to speed walk off. 

 

“Noooo, Ben!” She chased after him, trying to jump up and snatch her bag back from him. “Ugh, stop being tall!”

 

“Can't do that, sweetheart.” He began to lead the way back to his apartment and Rey felt very much like a horse following a carrot on a stick, trying to catch her bag at random intervals but failing every time. “Ooh, nearly. Just a bit higher.”

 

“Fuck off,” She laughed. 

 

“You fuck off.” He grinned. 

 

“Only if you fuck off first.”

 

“Not gonna happen.”


End file.
